Bound by blood
by FirstoftheAbyss
Summary: Crossover. AU. Befriending a little bat in her broom closet, young Hera Potter gains her first friend. But small things have massive consequences when you are a witch and a descendant of Corvinus. Awakening in the past, confronted by the Rulers of the night what can a child that has grown up in fear and shadows do? Or what will she become? warning: Fem-Harry, Femslash, harem
1. Lost and Found

**First a reminder to all, this is a crossover between underworld & Harry Potter, it will feature a female Harry (Hera), femslash (this means yuri or lesbians) and a female Harem (Hera will be in a relationship with Amelia, Sonja, possible Selene and a human servant from the Potter-world [each of them will have their own importance and a proper character, they won't be simply part of the decor]), it will also involve bloodshed and swearing.**

 **If you dislike any of this you might decide to drop this story, but apart from the addition of Selene nothing will change (I might create a poll later on about her inclusion, but it will mostly depend upon me feeling if I can write her and if she'll actually add something extra to Hera's Harem)**

 **.**

 **This story was written in answer upon Whitetigerwolf's Death Dealer-challenge. The conditions:**

 ** _\- Young Harry gets transported back in time_ Yes, but is Hera (fem-Harry) who will be a far descendant of Corvinus (she'll become a vampire, not a hybrid though but this in combination with her magic will grant her certain benefits).**

 **She won't be an all powerfull goddess who owns the gold of half the world and is related to every important family, though!**

 ** _\- Harry can be no older than twelve when he is thrown back in time._ No problem.**

 ** _\- Harry must somehow encounter the vampires, and eventually become a Death Dealer (though he is permitted to have dual roles such as Death Dealer/Council Member or other roles you wish to come up with)_ yup**

 ** _\- Harry must become romantically involved with Amelia, Sonja, or Selene_ Currently I am envisioning her as Amelia's lover, councillor, bodyguard, ... during most of their time before the capture of William and the division of power between the Elders but she becomes involved with Sonja during the two hundred years which Amelia slumbers from every three centuries (with Amelia's consent, although she had imagined Hera merely taking a newly turned vampire in as her own consort, not have Victor's daughter fall in love with her own lover).**

 **Possibly I'll add Selene as well if I can give her her own reasons and way to fall in love with Hera (She won't be merely a copy of Sonja), otherwise they'll be having a mother-daughter or sister-relationship. I'm also leaning towards having Hera gain at least one human servant from the Potter-series. Whether she gets the "upgrade" to full vampire remains to be seen.**

 ** _\- Harry (Hera), now a grown vampire Death Dealer, must still have her name drawn from the Goblet of Fire and be forced to compete in the Tri-Wizard Tournament._ more or less, you'll see what I mean with that later**

 ** _Recommended:_**

 ** _\- Britain being a Lycan stronghold, with the lycans being led by Fenrir Greyback_ Yup, no real vampire presence in Britain, although the situation will be a bit more complicated than merely Lycans vs vampires**

 ** _\- FemHarry_ Made that one clear, I'd say**

 ** _\- Harry, along with several others, being sent to the British Isles, pre tournament, to eliminate the Lycans and establish another coven._ I am afraid that's a partial no. Hera will be receiving help from Selene, Sonja, ... but due to the limits of day, wizard-bias and other threats they won't be able to help her actively. She will be mostly on her own, except for the aid of her (future) human servant and perhaps a few other characters. Furthermore Hera will be having reasons of her own to remain "incognito" for a while. Apart from that like I said lycans and vampires will be a bit more complicated. The establishment of a coven and the culling of Fenrir's pack will be end goals though. She will back in England before the first year though, although I am not certain how long before. (who knows what might happen if there is no Potter to steal, eerh protect the stone?)**

 ** _\- Harry going back in time pre-Hogwarts._ Like I said, she'll be five or six years old**

.

 **About the story in itself: I am going for a mix of the canon-underworld movies and books, including the non-canon Blood Enemy (inspiration, extra characters, ... hated that depiction of Sonja by the way). This means vampires are cold blooded, cry blood and claw their way up walls rather than sticking to them, ...**

 **The magical world will be mostly the same for now, but those chapters are still far off. First we get to enjoy the wars between vampires and werewolves and Hera's role in influencing the forming of the vampire-world.**

 **.**

 **For those who wonder why I only post it now, whilst I had originally planned it in July. I wasn't happy with the result at the time, but university (AKA Real life) caught up with me and forced me to focus my attention from writing this and Daughter of Juno, Leader of Demigods to elsewere (hopefully I succeed in delivering you another chapter of DoJLoD in a week or so, not making promises though), but I am bit more pleased with the current result.**

 **.**

 **Also this will be mostly a side-project, I am planning to update and hopefully finish this, but it won't be my main-project (that's DojLoF)**

.

 **lastly, I don't own either world**

* * *

Six years old Hera Potter stared at the little bat which hid itself in the top corner of the broom closet.

The little girl carefully stretched her arm towards the little creature which seemed to shrink in itself when it tried to hide in a shadowed corner.

"Are you a vampire?" She asked with a soft, curious voice.

"There is no need to be afraid." Whispered Hera as sweet as she could whilst extending two fingers towards the bat as an invitation to sit upon. "I don't wanne hurt you."

The girl was smiling, speaking in a kind and gentle voice whilst keeping her green eyes fixed upon the bat.

It seemed to take a while but eventually, although much sooner than usually would be possible the little bat stopped shying away from the girl, somehow realising that she had no desire to hurt her.

"You're hungry, aren't you?" She asked the animal which now rested upon her fingers.

"I am too." She said with a soft voice. "I was bad today, I hit Dudley when he threw some of his toy-cars at me. Uncle won't be letting me out of the closet for a long time. I had no diner today and won't be having any lunch or other diner either until he decides to let me out."

As if to console her, the little bat pressed her head against the human's cheek, nudging it softly.

"You're nice." Hera whispered, closing her eyes for a moment to enjoy the bats affection. "I like you."

"Vampires drink blood, don't they?" Hera asked the animal. "She raised her left hand up, noticing some the crusts of blood upon the flat of her hand and pinkie where it had been opened yesterday when her cousin had "accidently" pushed her down the last stairs. For a moment her features darkened due to the memory, then remembering the bat, she brightened up and offered the animal her hand.

"You can drink it, I don't think it would hurt. That was yesterday."

The bat stared at her hand for a few moments before curiously licking it, making the small girl giggle.

"That tickles." Hera whispered before carefully reaching for the vampires head and began as gentle as she could to stroke the fur upon her head.

"You like that, don't you?" Hera whispered. "Most animals do, I hear. Do you think I would too?"

As in reply the bat brushed a wing against her cheek, beginning halfway her cheek before dragging it further to the back of her head through her ink black hair which had been clipped short by her aunt to keep it from getting messy.

Hera giggled again. "I like it, I like it lot." She whispered. Then her features brightened even more. "I like it almost as much as I like you." She whispered conspiratorially to the animal.

The bat made a soft cooing sound in return.

"Uncle won't be letting either of us out soon, so will you play with me until he does? I promise I won't be mean."

The bat brushed her head against the young girl's cheek again, but this time Hera felt something other than the animal's soft fur or leathery wings, something wet.

"Did you just lick me?" She asked the little animal, then she smiled mischievously. "Or was that a kiss?"

In reply she slowly raised the bat a bit higher.

"This is only because your my friend." She whispered conspiratorially to the animal, before pretending to look for someone spying upon them. Then she bowed a bit closer to the animal and pressed a kiss upon her head.

Remembering something some woman had been speaking about in the market, Hera kept her own head close to the bat's head.

"Now not bragging about that against your friends," she said with mock-severity whilst wagging her finger at the bat.

Then she smiled. "You won't be doing that, won't you?" She whispered. "I hear that is bad."

She had no idea why it would be bad though.

Hera spent the following hours with talking to the bat, watching her fly the few feet of space it had and occasionally pretending her hand was another bat who was flying with her newfound friend. It quickly became the best day she ever had, something she didn't fail to mention to the bat.

Finally, she became tired and laid herself down upon the mattress. The bat landed a few moments later upon her stomach and began crawling in the direction of her head, only stopping upon her chest.

"I am tired." She announced to her friend. "I need some sleep."

Hera gave her a sweet smile. "If you become hungry, you can take some of my blood. Friends always help another."

"Maybe you can turn me into a vampire as well." She whispered, "then we can leave the Dursleys and be friends forever."

She smiled at the thought, before closing her eyes. Still feeling the unfamiliar, but comfortable weight of the bat upon her chest when sleep took her thoughts away.

* * *

Hera woke up several hours later, shivering as if she was suffering from a high fever.

"What is going on?" She whispered surprised without opening her eyes.

She reached for her blanket in attempt to cover herself and remove the cold, but she found nothing. Slowly, still mostly asleep she opened her eyes and reached out with her arm again, searching for her blanket.

She blinked in surprise. Rather than the familiar semi-darkness of her broom closet, she felt a cold wind upon her face and whilst it remained dark, the light of the moon and stars allowed her to see clearly. She was laying in the remains of a hovel. A flimsy wooden shack, with no more than a single room and no bigger than a tent either. Through a wide crack in the wooden walls she saw several other huts, an entire village of them. It was an old place and unknown to her, since long abandoned by humans. With them, almost everything remotely valuable or usable had been taken away. What little furniture that had been there and that had been too old or too heavy to remove had been destroyed and obviously with a lot of violence. The same madness which had destroyed the furniture had neither spared the walls or doors. Almost all were heavily scratched, broken or even shattered. Hera was staring with halted breath at the visible traces of so much violence and rage.

"Where am I?" She whispered. A soft squeak from behind her made her turn around instantly, instantly scrambling up and bracing herself for the slap which she expected to come. Instead of receiving the expected pain, she saw a familiar little bat hang from the ceiling.

"Hey," she whispered gently, momentarily forgetting her fear. "You are here as well."

"Is this your home?" She asked the bat. As if it was replying, the bat shook itself from left to right.

"Oh." Hera replied, a bit disappointed. "You know where we are then?"

At this, the bat flew towards her and landed upon her shoulder.

"I take it you don't then." She whispered.

She brushed two fingers against the side of the animals head, making it rub its own head against her cheek in return.

"We'll go searching for someplace warm then," she said optimistically.

She rubbed her hands and stomped with her bare feet, which both had started to feel cold and walked out.

Wandering through the heap of hovels, she quickly discovered the village had been larger than she had initially anticipated. There were dozens if not over a hundred shacks and huts in numerous shapes and sizes and whilst most of them were small and rather paltry looking like the hut she had found herself in, others were larger and better looking, including one particularly large house, more like a mansion which had been situated upon a small hill at the edge of the village.

"You think someone is there?" Hera asked her bat. "Maybe he will help."

The bat stared at her for a moment. Hera smiled but when the bat proceeded to stare at her, she started to feel a bit uncomfortable.

"Is there something?" She asked the bat. "Something you want to tell me?"

In reply the bat brushed her head once more against her cheek before continuing to stare at at her.

"It is something that must be troubling you, otherwise you wouldn't stop us so close to the house." Hera said, more talking for her own benefit than the bats.

"What's troubling you little...bat." Hera said, pausing for a moment before blinking.

"I must be the worst friend, ever." Hera whispered disappointed with herself. "You've been with me for over a day and I still don't know your name.

The bat seemed to nod in reply.

"Sorry," Hera whispered bashfully, "Forgive me?"

Considering how the bat kept nudging her cheek, she made clear Hera was forgiven.

"You're a great friend." Hera whispered to the bat.

"I know what now, we'll turn it into another game whilst we go the house." Hera said, perking up. "I guess your name and you tell me if I am correct."

The bat nodded again.

"Is it...Dracula?" She asked. The bat shook his head a first time.

"Aleera... Verona...Mariska...Mirena...Serras...Allucard...Carmilla...Laura...Erzsébet..."

Name after name came and went, all were denied by a shake of the bat's head.

Hera pouted. "I bet I already said your name and you're simply denying."

The bat shook his head again, this time a bit faster than before.

"Than what could it be?" she asked the bat. "I have said every possible name already."

The headshake from the bat made clear she thought otherwise.

"Can't you give me a hint?" she asked the bat, whilst peering into her eyes. She brushed against the side of the bats head with her hand.

"You're such sweet little bat? You'll help me, won't you?"

A soft cooing sound came from the bat.

"It has something to do with vampires?" Hera asked her. A nod.

"A famous vampire?" Another nod.

"It means more than just a vampire's name?" A very enthusiastic nod.

"Errrh, am I allowed to understand that meaning?" Hera could recall the same women who for some reason believed that people weren't supposed to brag about kissing, talking in hushed whispers about other things.

Another nod and she felt the bat brush it's body against her cheek.

"You're happy." Hera said. "But not just that."

She snapped her fingers. "Your name has to do with your body?" She asked. Her friend gave another nod.

"Your coat is fluffy?" She began, prompting an unusually rapid shaking from the bat's little head.

"So it's not Fluffy?" Hera whispered with a teasing smile. A moment later she blinked. Had she just seen that little thing face-palming?

"Definitely a no than."

"Has it to do with the colour?" She asked. If the bat was now clapping with her wings, she...would need to do absolutely nothing because she simply nodded in return.

"So is it brown?... chocolate?... Hazel?...Moka?..." shake, shake, shake, nod.

"There is a vampire named Moka?" Hera asked her. Another nod and a silent warning that she better be watching her words.

"Bet you're more awesome though." Hera told her, making the bat brush itself against her cheek once more.

Then she felt the bat take off from her shoulder. Seeking the air far above her, Moka began circling around. As if she was looking for something.

"Something wrong, Moka?" Hera yelled out to her friend.

When a loud roar answered her call, she knew she had made a mistake.

* * *

Hera paused for a second, seemingly frozen by fear then she screamed and turned around.

"We got to get away!" She yelled at the bat whilst turning around. A moment later, she spotted the bat from the corner of her eye flying next to her.

Throwing a quick glance behind her, Hera saw a number of pieces of wood thrown into the air as if there had been an explosion, but despite the loud crack of breaking wood and another monstrous growl there was no trace of fire. What there was however, was a massive, snow-white figure which was moving rapidly through the ruins of the village, destroying everything in its pad... to her.

Hera might have been small, cold, hungry and tired, she had always been rather fast though. Still it didn't grant her more than twenty feet before she literally felt its hot breath upon her back. A massive gust, almost strong enough to make her fall. That was all she felt before it had overtaken her.

The creature in front of her was massive, at least a full head taller than a grown man and that was while it was walking hunched. Whilst it resembled a bipedal wolf, it had fingers which were definitely human-like but each of those was topped off with razor-sharp nails, like a bird of prey's talons. The creature had long pointed ears, almost elf-like, Hera thought for a fraction of a moment and a long muzzle which revealed many sharp and curved but yellow teeth. It had a thick, shaggy coat which was as white as the purest snow she had ever seen, but which was thick with splinters of wood. Despite the thickness of the fur, it gave none the less an indication of the Herculean muscles which lay underneath. Standing up on it's hind legs, Hera also caught a hint of his sex, half hidden as it was between the hair. At another occasion the child might have laughed at that, at a later age it might have made her blush, now she didn't even notice it.

Staring at her with his white eyes, a small amount of foam dropping from its mouth, the werewolf came closer. Hera saw him open his hand, revealing his talons and bring it backwards for a single swing which was bound to decapitate her.

Hera wanted to run, she wanted to run so very hard, but staring in those eyes, those pale hate-filled eyes which contained a madness like she had never seen before, she found herself momentarily unable to move. A cold feeling had spread from her stomach, over her spine through her entire body.

A high-pitched shriek woke her up from her trance.

Moka swooped down upon the werewolf, fluttering in front of his open maw, screeching loudly whilst exposing her own fangs in attempt to scare the massive beast off and when that failed, she tried to reach for his eyes with her own tiny claws. For a moment the beast blinked and stared at her, as if taken aback by so much stupidity, than the magical moment was over and a swipe of his claws slapped the animal away, making if fall upon the ground with a sad squeaking sound.

"Moka!" Whispered Hera aghast. Fear was replaced by anger, the ice in her stomach by a roaring fire.

Hera charged the one responsible for her only friend's suffering, reaching down for one of the pieces of wood which had been broken from the shack when the beast went through them whilst running at the monstrous creature. Grasping the plank with both hands and after swinging it as far back as she could, she struck the side of the werewolves ribs.

* * *

There was the sound of a loud crack and the werewolf took a step backwards in surprise. He stared for a moment at the remaining quarter of the piece of wood in Hera's hand. The rest lay at her feet, broken, but smeared with a bit of his blood and some of his hairs still sticking to it. Somewhere in the back of his mind, with his rationality momentarily overcoming the madness, he realised that the young girl should not have been able to strike him with such a strength.

A moment later the brief moment of lucidity was gone, once more overcome by the much more familiar madness and rage and he opened his mouth to roar before he would tear the small, impudent creature in front of him to shreds.

Before him, Hera moved to the side and placed herself protectively in front of the bat, the larger part of the broken plank in her hands.

She unveiled her teeth at the werewolf, hissing at him like a serpent. Despite her defiance, there were tears in the corners of her green eyes.

He roared loudly and raised both clawed hands.

Then his eyes widened for a moment, his ears recognised the sound of a metallic slap followed by a familiar, whistling sound.

Moving backwards he made a swiping motion with his left arm, slapping a bolt in mid-flight to pieces. A moment later more whistling began and he saw other quarrels fly towards him.

Pointing his head at the origin of the missiles, he noticed the movement between the buildings.

A single figure drew his attention. She was a woman and she stood a bit before the other crossbowmen, clearly intent upon exposing herself. ... and drawing his attention to her!

He recognised her instantly. Yellow eyed and dark haired, with a figure similar to a Grecian goddess and without single blemish upon her alabaster skin whether it was by marring blades or diseases, Amelia, the princess of the vampires.

He spotted the sadistic smile upon her pale lips when she pointed her weapon again at him. Almost painfully slowly placing another bolt in the slot of the stock from her weapon, before she pulled the trigger.

Then it was done and another silver tipped bolt was launched at him.

He felt pain, like a fire that seemed to coarse through his veins when the silver bolt struck, he stared at her hatefully for another moment, he couldn't smell any other vampires, then he did catch a whiff of numerous other scents. His eyebrows were raised for a fraction of a second before he ran off in the same direction he had come from.

He saw more vampires appear, each of them armed with a bow or a spear, with a sword by their side, dressed in black and protected by a cuirass made of steel.

One came too close to him and died, his head seemingly evaporating in a red mist when the First Werewolf's claw struck the man's unprotected head. Another seated high upon a horse tried to cut off his escape, he felt a sadistic glee before he jumped her, throwing her down with her back against the ground. Breaking the woman's back due to the smack of her fall and the weight of the werewolf's massive body. Without losing a second of his escape he stabbed his claw down, into her neck. Instantly decapitating the vampire. Then he was out of the village and back into the woods, he was gone.

"William!" he heard a loud male voice exclaim with obvious anger. He felt a wave of anger hearing the voice.

"Victor!" He knew. "Not Marcus, not his brother."

* * *

The tall man with thinning blond hair send his horse between the houses, steering it straight at the young girl who had now bowed herself over the bat.

The man was old, looking as if he was in his late forties or early fifties but despite his true age, he was still strong and healthy, with a powerful appearance which would have suited a giant of not even half his perceived age. He glared furiously at the girl and grasped the hilt of his sword with a enough force to make his fingers pale. Behind him more vampires, both horsed and on foot appeared, among them an attractive man with long red hair and a carefully groomed beard.

"Your brother escaped again, Marcus." The first man said, more like growled.

"I am aware, Victor."Marcus replied, likewise sounding angry but mostly tired. "We came so close."

"Another two of my men died." Victor continued, still half-growling. "It would have gone off without a hitch, if it weren't for that little cretin."

"Well!" He yelled whilst stomping towards Hera. "What have you to say for yourself?"

"Your men were late!" Exclaimed a calm, commanding female voice. "If they would have taken their position in time, he would have fled to me without even noticing her."

"There would have been enough time if she hadn't drawn his attention." Victor snarled angrily. "I lost two of my better hunters without so much as scratching him."

"We would have lost more, if they had succeeded in slowing him down and I am far from certain those dead would have stopped him from fleeing." Amelia replied, sounding far from impressed. "More importantly are you really going to blame a child for the failures of grown warriors. They knew the risks, we all knew. Some of us, perhaps most of us would die... permanently."

For a moment Victor stared at her with obvious anger, than he seemed to calm down.

"You are right, Amelia." He said. "Still, what is a human child doing in a village, years after William visited it?"

"I don't know. She appeared from one of the huts." Amelia replied whilst walking towards Hera who was now staring at the three vampire-leaders.

"It was rather curious." She thought. It had been years, almost over a century since she had been a human and yet even if her memory had been warped by time, the temperature was much too low for a girl to be dressed like that. In fact it wouldn't surprise her if snow started to fall in a matter of moments. Still, the girl seemed to wear little more than a shirt, not even shoes and the way she was shivering made clear that she wasn't used to these conditions. In fact, the only thing that seemed to make remotely sense was if she were an escaped slave, somehow escaped from traders or their own hunters. However even that seemed rather unlikely, whilst the girl had some scratches, there was no way she could have travelled through the forest for more than an hour without receiving at least twice as many or gaining the first signs of frostbite.

"What is your name, girl?" Amelia asked her, whilst kneeling down, employing a kinder voice whilst using two fingers to force the girl to look up, into her yellow eyes.

"Hera, miss." Whispered Hera in return.

"I see, Hera. My name is Amelia." Amelia continued whilst moving carefully to the right, trying to gain a better look at the bat. "What are you doing here, Hera. Where are your parents?"

"My parents are dead, miss Amelia, they died when I was very young." Hera replied, looking down. "I don't know why am I here." She paused for a moment. "Or where I am."

Amelia didn't miss how the girl likewise moved with her, trying to keep herself between the bat and herself, making the vampire Elder smile a bit. The vampire had to remind herself to keep her fangs from showing for now.

"I am sorry to hear of your parent's death, Hera." Amelia whispered, ignoring the irony of a six year old telling that something happened when she was very young to a centuries-old vampire. "Where do you think you are? And who has been raising you? Surely you haven't been living on your own?"

Hera seemed to shrink a bit upon hearing her question.

"I am still in England, am I?" She replied. "And I am living with my aunt and uncle."

She looked at Amelia with some fear in her eyes. "I didn't do anything bad didn't I, I don't want them mad again."

Amelia frowned for a moment, that was not an answer she had been expecting.

"I have never heard from a place called England." Amelia replied, "You're in Hungary, just beneath the Carpathian mountains, I am afraid I can't remember the name of this, errrh, village ."

She saw Hera's eye seemingly bulge out of her skull.

"It seems you have me at a disadvantage." Amelia continued. "You know where I am from, but I don't know where you're from. Is England very far from Hungary?"

Hera nodded.

"So are your aunt and uncle back in England or somewhere here as well?"

"I don't know, I went to sleep after playing with Moka, then I woke up in that hut." Hera replied while pointing at one of the ruins.

The vampire noted that the girl kept quiet about her aunt and uncle, which in combination with her earlier reactions was not exactly painting a pretty picture of those people.

"Moka?" Amelia decided to ask her instead, making Hera shove a bit to the side, exposing the little bat for a moment.

"Your pet?" Amelia replied. "He is a well trained animal. I don't think I have ever seen a tame bat before."

"My friend, not my pet!" Hera exclaimed with a bit of anger in her voice. "She is my bestest friend, she doesn't need training."

For a moment Amelia stared at her, obviously wondering about the truth in that statement.

"Then why did she land upon your shoulder, fly when you told her to or protect you when William attacked?"

"Because she wanted to, silly." Hera replied as if it was obvious, before seeming to sadden. "And she's a really good friend."

"Ooh," Amelia told her. "I think you must be a really good friend too if she was willing to attack a werewolf for you, besides the fact that you attacked a werewolf as well to protect her."

Hera looked away instantly, sporting a massive blush.

"You see my friend over there?" Amelia said, pointing at Marcus. "He knows more about bats than anyone else around here."

She smiled a bit at those words. Well, it wasn't as if she was lying.

"I'll ask him to take a look at our little heroine over here." She told the girl. "You wait here with her."

Hera nodded whilst Amelia stood up and seemed intent upon walking back to the two remaining Elder-Vampires. Than the Elder Princess paused for a moment and took her coat off, draping the dark textile around her shoulders. "It will keep you warm." Amelia told her before playfully pulling the hood down, covering Hera's eyes.

In the distance both Victor and Marcus were staring at her with some curiosity in their gaze.

"It is rather unusual for you to treat anyone with so much patience and kindness." Marcus told her when she reached them, obviously sporting a small smile. "Are you feeling motherly?"

Amelia rolled her eyes in return. "She intrigued me." She simply said as a matter of explanation.

"Her name is Hera, she comes from a place called England," at this she looked at both males with an asking expression.

"It might relate to the Angles," Victor suggested. "That was one of the tribes which migrated to Britannia a couple of centuries ago."

"Britannia" Amelia repeated, seemingly wondering than she shook her head. "It might matter little anyway."

"Her parents are dead and she lives with her aunt and uncle whom she's afraid off."Amelia continued.

"What made her so interesting to you?" Victor asked her.

"Apart from appearing out of nowhere and ending up in the middle of an ambush, without a single clue of her presence before she ran out of a hut and started shouting?"

Victor nodded. "It is true that we found no trace of her presence. A situation for which the responsible scouts will be punished."

"I doubt it is so easy, Victor." Amelia replied, making said Elder vampire look at her curiously.

"You've seen more of her then we did, Amelia. Tell us, what did you see that drew your attention?" Marcus asked her now actually sounding intrigued.

"I saw a girl who treated a bat as a friend, even talked to it like a person and in exchange I saw that bat behave in ways I have never seen before."

Both males were not exactly looking impressed at that.

"The bat, Moka attacked William, when he threatened Hera." Amelia told them. "And when he slapped the animal away, Hera attacked him with a piece of wood.

Victor smirked. "I can see why you're interested, the amount of luck required to survive that is baffling, if her presence grants you the same amount..."

Marcus looked disapproving at Victor for a moment, than he shook his head.

"She attacked my brother?" He whispered.

"Which brings me to the next mystery, the wood broke instantly. She struck William with enough force to make him step backwards!"

Now both stared at her in disbelief.

"She further claimed that the bat was never trained, simply that it is her friend."

"You think she is a vampire?" Marcus asked her now sounding almost demure. Whilst Victor simply stared at her with a mix of surprise and thoughtfulness.

Amelia felt rather torn in return. "I don't know." She whispered.

"She doesn't smell like one, nor does she seems to move like one, neither does she seem to have our immunity to all but the worst excesses of the cold nor does she have our eyes. In fact if it wasn't for that one strike I might have dismissed the bat as a nothing but a trained pet, despite her words." Amelia replied. "I did promise her you would take a look at the bat, though. She's named Moka. I suggest you use the opportunity to find out whether you two are somehow related."

"That is rather unlikely, Father keeps a sharp eye upon his remaining human descendants." Marcus reminded her.

"Perhaps, but nobody can remain vigilant without an occasional reminder especially in the course of many years." Amelia argued.

"True and it is not as if it would take more than an hour to create an unknown little bastard." Victor suggested.

"More like half a minute." Amelia remarked scathingly, making both males raise an eyebrow in her direction, neither spoke up though, making Amelia sigh.

"Fine, don't mind my remarks," She whispered. "if they're not polishing your egos."

"What would you suggest we do with her?" Victor asked her.

"If she's somehow related to Marcus, it would be a great opportunity to add her to our number." Amelia suggested. "And even if she isn't, her relation with the bats intrigues me, I feel myself inclined to turn her."

Amelia shot both males a small smirk. "Imagine the advantages we could gain by controlling bats like she does." She said. Despite the legends and the origin of their blessing or curse, turning into or even controlling bats had been no part of their gifts so far.

"And even if she is unable to pass it to others," Victor continued, "a single loyal vampire with the ability would remain a great boon."

"You mentioned strength as well?" Marcus reminded them.

"I did, however apart from that one strike I saw no other sign of this."

"Merely desperation?" Marcus suggested.

Amelia pointed at the plank and shook her head. "Not likely." She replied. "Still, she is waiting for you to check her bat."

Marcus sighed and then nodded, before walking towards Hera.

Absentmindedly the elder Vampire checked the bat's condition. Despite Amelia's words Marcus knew very little about the anatomy of the species but it took no great skill to ascertain that the animal merely suffered from a broken wing.

"She'll live." He muttered whilst staring at Hera. Intuitively he sensed a small connection with the girl.

Marcus shook his head for a moment, than he smiled rather gently, reminding himself that it was just a girl, somehow related to him who was staring at him. A lone and cold girl who was worried about the fate of her pet or friend, whatever the bat was to her.

"She was very lucky, your bat is only suffering from a broken wing." He continued upon a softer tone. "It will heal in couple of weeks."

He paused for a moment, seemingly thinking over something then he shrugged. "If you make certain she rests a lot and doesn't get hurt again, she'll be flying around as if nothing ever happened."

He reached slowly for the bat, shooting Hera a reassuring smile when she seemed to stiffen at the motion in Moka's direction, than he raised the bat carefully up, holding her against his armoured chest.

"You'll have to carry her like this." He told her. "Otherwise you might hurt her."

He waited for a moment so Hera could imitate his posture and then he gently handed the bat over again.

"I'll be talking with Amelia and Victor for a little while, if you don't mind."

* * *

"She's related." Marcus admitted to the other Elder Vampires. "I don't know how, but she's related. Once I recalled your suggestion, I could sense it instantly."

"She's what, your sixth cousin?" Amelia asked him, only half joking.

Marcus shook his head. "I don't know. But I'd guess it would be further down than you're actually thinking."

"What do you mean, Marcus? Explain yourself?" Victor asked him.

"My father's blood flows through her veins." Marcus told him. "But it is diluted, as if at least half a millennium has passed since my father gained immortality."

"A side-effect of your brother's mortality?" Victor suggested.

Marcus shook his head. "It is far too strong for that." He said.

"Can it have been caused by a different blessing?" Amelia asked him. "Perhaps related to her behaviour with the bat?"

"You suggest that another blessing overpowered my father's immortality?" Marcus asked her, obviously pondering about the question. "Until we discover more, that seems the most likely possibility."

"Would that blessing stop her from turning into vampire?" Amelia asked him.

"Are you still planning to turn her?" Marcus asked her.

"I am, what of it?" Amelia returned.

"Nothing, Amelia. Merely a question." Marcus sighed. "But to answer your question. I doubt it would. If it could withhold her from turning, it would have removed the traces of immortal blood in her veins.

"How are you going to raise her?" Victor asked her. "We can't afford your absence in this war!"

"Than what do you suggest?" Amelia asked him, obviously annoyed.

"Ilona." Victor told her. "My wife has been eager for a child for some time."

"We can afford the removal from one of our best Death-Dealers for more then a decade?" Amelia asked him in return.

"Better than the removal from one of the Elders." Victor reminded her.

Amelia stared into his eyes with thin lips giving her a severe appearance. Victor returned her gaze with a similar expression.

Over thinking the situation, Amelia went through the options.

Marcus might have been related to her but he had already a natural son and was obviously without any real interest in Hera, instead all his attention was focused upon the hunt for his brother. Considering how little interest Ilona showed for the hunt of William in comparison to her raids against William's descendants and increasing their influence over humans, it was very likely that Marcus would prefer her to raise the child, rather than any of them three. More importantly though, she knew Marcus's son, Nicolae and loathed him utterly. As unfair as it might be to the First Vampire who considered the youngling a disappointment as well, she refused to let Marcus raise a child after so blatantly failing his own.

Whilst she had erstwhile planned to raise Hera herself, she had to admit to herself that she could imagine herself many things but a good mother was unfortunately not one of them. She was no better than Victor in that regard, too cold and impatient for a role that would require so much of warmth, patience and gentleness. Just as important was the fact that serving in that role would rob her from at least a decade in the war during which she would lose warriors and influence to the other Elders and she refused to be left to their (non-)tender mercy. Still, she disliked the idea of abandoning the girl with a passion. She had liked the girl, shy as she was, Hera was obviously not bereft of courage and loyalty. Two traits she valued hugely. The girl had likewise seemed naive and without much learning or training, but what she had seen and heard made her doubt that Hera was left bereft of intelligence though. Furthermore she believed that underneath the shyness and innocence there was something else hidden, a power of which she had only caught a glimpse and which she found very intriguing. She was not merely talking about Hera's control over Moka, even if the girl did not see it like that or her strength when she hit William. It was a hint of something else, which set her apart from most people and which hinted at a greater destiny. She had seen it only a few time before, Victor and Marcus being two of the more well-known examples, but she could recognise the same in Hera, lacking better words, one might say Hera was destined for great and potentially terrible things, if she "lived" to see them done, of course. She suspected Victor saw the same, otherwise he wouldn't have suggested Ilona, even if she desired a child which Amelia had no reason to doubt.

Truth to be told, Ilona was not a bad choice, she was an intelligent and capable Death Dealer, who was well versed in many arts. She was also less cold than herself, with a much greater patience that would suit a mother much better than her own. She did not doubt that Hera would be well prepared for a "life" as a Death Dealer and whatever Fate held in store for her, by Ilona. She disliked the idea of Victor denying her access to the child which he doubtless would if her image of Hera was correct. Ilona was less likely to oppose her though and even Victor would back off if she had a good reason to keep her eyes upon the girl.

Amelia decided she could back down upon the issue of Hera's adoption, but she wouldn't upon the other issue though.

"Ilona will raise her," She said to Victor which made Marcus nod, obviously pleased.

Then she continued. "I will be her sire, though."

For a moment it looked like Victor would protest, then he stared at her and gave her a small cunning smile.

"As uncommon as such an arrangement is," he said still sporting that same, small smile, "I'll accept, I truthfully hope that this will lead to closer relations between us."

After this Victor exchanged a look with her which eventually ended up on Marcus, who was now looking away, Amelia couldn't help but feel that unnoticeable to anyone but the two of them, there had been a small, but important shift in the balance of power of their coven.

* * *

Giving one of the Death Dealers a wave of his hand, Victor ordered the man to bring Hera to them.

"We leave for Ördöghàz." Victor told Hera and Amelia. "I'll give word to Ilona."

He threw a last glance at Amelia, before throwing a quick look at the east. "You take care of yourself, the sun will be rising in another couple of hours."

Amelia nodded and kneeled again for Hera whilst placing a hand upon her shoulder.

"Do you know what we are?" Amelia asked her with a calm, reassuring voice.

Hera took a deep breath, stared down for a moment at the bat which she was cradling to her chest, then she nodded.

"Vampires." She whispered with a to Amelia curiously lack of fear.

Amelia smiled at her, this time broad enough to reveal her fangs and nodded.

"Indeed!" She said, pleased that the girl had realised that so easily. "Does that frighten you?"

"A bit?" Hera said or asked, neither she nor Amelia was certain about that.

Amelia chuckled in return. "I am not going to hurt you." Amelia told her.

"Are you going to turn me into a vampire as well?" Hera asked her curiously.

"I'd like to do that, does it bother you?" Amelia asked her in return.

Hera seemed torn at that point and instinctively clutched her bat a bit harder to her chest.

Moka gave a soft squeal which immediately made Hera look down and loosen her grip a bit.

"Will it make me more like Moka?" Hera asked her.

Amelia blinked for a moment. She had expected questions about darkness, immortality, the threat of sunlight, drinking blood, strength, ... not whether she would be more like a bat or not. She mentally shrugged, considering how close the girl appeared to be to the bat, perhaps she should have seen that question coming rather than those more mature (and the few a bit less mature) options.

"Your senses will grow much stronger," Amelia began, "just like a bat. Your eyes will become better, so will your nose and ears. You will become faster and stronger than any human ever could hope to be."

At that Amelia smiled and brushed a hand through Hera's hair. "You'll never have to be afraid of a human as long as you are a vampire." She said, rightly suspecting that Hera would be very susceptible to that offer.

"You will be capable of seeing in darkness, just as clear as you can now in broad daylight." Amelia continued, before admitting. "However the sun will harm and even kill you."

"You"ll be capable of climbing and clinging to many surfaces." She stopped for a moment to chuckle. "Or even hang upside-down with your nails, just like your little Moka."

"Lastly you will only be able to survive by drinking blood." She said. "Human blood is the best, although animal blood may quench your thirst and even give you strength for a while, it will weaken you if you don't drain a human from his every now and then."

There were more advantages and a few disadvantages to becoming a vampire, but Amelia suspected she had given Hera the most important ones.

Amelia smiled at her and removed her hand from Hera's shoulder whilst extending it to her.

"Will you accept this gift of immortality as I offer it to you, young fledgling as your sire?"

Hera's slightly tanned hand rested in Amelia's larger, seemingly unnatural pale and cold one.

Hera nodded. "I do." She whispered. "Will it hurt?"

Amelia smiled at her." Very little if you're not afraid." She said. "In fact if you trust me and don't resist I am told a crimson kiss can be a very nice experience."

Hera tilted her head a bit, exposing her neck to Amelia's fangs.

"When you called yourself my sire," Hera asked her, betraying an obvious hope in her voice. "does that mean you'll be my mother?"

Amelia hesitated for a moment, for that single second cursing Victor for his suggestion and herself for accepting it, then she reminded herself with some regret that she had thrown away her chance of becoming Hera's mother but that being her sire could make her just as important to the girl if not more.

"Not your mother, Hera." Amelia told her. "I am one of the three leaders of this Coven, with my position and duties I'd make a poor mother at best, but Victor's wife, Ilona has a desire for a child."

She saw the disappointed expression upon Hera's features.

"I'll be your friend instead," Amelia continued. She had almost said sister, but she decided that her position and tasks would make friend the better option, even if it might seem a bit outrageous for an Elder vampire and an infant fledgling to consider each other friends. "your mentor for everything Ilona can't or won't teach you, your protector when you need protecting, your patron when you need support."

At each of those words Hera seemed to perk up a little more whilst Amelia brushed one hand against Hera's cheek.

Amelia's face drew a bit closer. "Don't be upset if we're only friends." She whispered before giving the girl a wink. "sometimes friends become even closer than blood-kin."

"And we'll have all eternity to become closer." Hera whispered. "Haven't we?"

"Such a smart girl." Amelia whispered in return before placing a quick peck upon her cheek.

Hera looked a bit reddish, but she tilted her head again and closed her eyes, waiting for the fangs to pierce her skin.

"Relax Hera." Amelia whispered in the ear of the tense looking girl before wrapping her own arms around the girl.

The girl obeyed, she felt a short prick but then a soft, tickling sensation spread through her body instantly replacing the pain with a pleasant, tingling warmth which did make her sleepy though. Soon she was no longer able to open her eyes, but she felt a pair of lean arms withhold her from falling first and then raise her up and hold her like a cherished child or a princess in a fairy tale. A soft squealing betrayed that Moka still rested in her lap, but it lacked any sound which hinted at some discomfort from the little bat. A smile crept to Hera's lips, there was no pain, just a feeling of completeness. The last thing her mind vaguely registered before she sank away in the comfortable embrace of the dark was the neighing of a horse.

* * *

Castle Corvinus, ten years since the day of Hera's turning.

.

Amelia stared at the courtyard beneath her feet. Despite the heavy leather greatcoat which hid most of her armoured figure, the woman seemed unaffected by the oppressive warmth of the summer night. With a slow wave of her hand she beckoned a handmaiden, a young and rather attractive vampire who had been turned by one of her Death Dealers two decades ago to come closer. Scarcely a second later she recognised the sound of the girl's shoes when the soles scraped over the stones of the stairs to the wall upon which she rested. She didn't pay a lot of attention to her servant though, why would she when she could enjoy sight in the courtyard?

Her little smile became a rather cruel smirk when she heard a yell and noticed one of the warriors at the edge of the battlefield falling down whilst clutching his side. Twenty minutes ago, there had been fifty armoured warriors, each an aspiring Death Dealer. All warriors with plenty of training and usually ample experience which had been gained in the endless skirmishes between the vampires and upstart human nobles who held delusions about the difference between their own skills and the vampires. It was rare for a vampire to die in these battles, since even a young and inexperienced vampire could easily best a human due to his far greater strength and speed. Most lower-ranking warriors and even Death Dealers who died, had their second dead dealt by the fangs and claws of the werewolves, William's spawn, their own race's immortal enemies.

Unlike the Death Dealers who were specifically chosen among the best of their warriors to hunt these monsters, most lesser warriors would stand little chance against the bestial rage of the monsters. The latest batch of hopefuls was not overly impressive but there was a bit of potential. Still, it was only due to the presence of a single vampire amongst the hopefuls that she, one of the Elders had bothered to come from her own stronghold to watch the final test.

The rules of this test were simple: every vampire was forced to wear a weighed down version of the Death Dealer-armour: these were a long-sleeved mail hauberk, plate armour which would usually be handcrafted to fit its owner's figure like a glove, a gorget and forged metal plates which would protect their shoulders and knees. Lastly there was a black plumed helmet resembling the much older Corinthian helmet of the Greeks hoplites or if particularly favoured by at least one of the Elders, a menacing looking steel helmet which concealed most of the owner's features behind a skull-like mask. All of these pieces of equipment were made of hardy, ebony coloured steel. However both helmets were absent at the test. Instead each of the candidates had wrapped his or her head with black cloth to conceal their features. Whilst vampire-society was rife with favouritism and corruption, the corps of Death Dealers was one of the few institutions where a strict code of unprejudiced judgement and meritocracy was demanded. Then again, it was not as if it was hard to maintain. Werewolves had the good habit of sniffing out the weak first, someone incapable was unlikely to survive for longer than a week.

Whilst the heavier equipment would have been a severe burden for a human, it did little more than slow a vampire down. However, exhausting or even severely hindering the vampire was not the goal of the heavier equipment. The point of the equipment was mostly symbolic, it was meant to represent the much heavier weight they were taking upon their shoulders, being a Death Dealer was a honour but more importantly it was an important duty which was supposed to determine the "life" of the vampire after the initiation.

Qua weaponry there were no real rules except for a strict no crossbows or horses. This meant most vampires employed swords or maces, usually the weapons with which they were most experienced, even so there were plenty of exceptions among the fifty candidates.

The goal of the test was simple: there were fifty candidates which, depending upon the judgement of the most senior-officer, which was Amelia herself, were either forty or forty-five candidates to many. How this excessive amount of potential Death Dealers was taken out depended upon the candidates themselves, whether they fought a series of duels or tried to gang up upon a few mattered little for the Death Dealers, the weak would be weeded out any way. However whilst broken bones, cuts and thrusting wounds were common amongst the failed candidates, a second dead was not.

Lastly, among the small number of successful candidates, a single one would be further honoured by being granted a place in the retinue of one of the Elders. This was achieved by having the tiara upon your head at the end of the battle. This tiara had been placed at the centre of the courtyard and was always the centre of the battle, the spot where the battle was the fiercest and warriors ganged upon each other in brief alliances which fell apart with the same ease as with which they were formed.

Now she counted scarcely twenty three remaining candidates and another two of those would either be taken out in the next moments when one of the fitter, not wounded warriors would be released by defeating his own opponent or if they weren't that lucky simply faint due to the blood loss.

With a slow, eloquent motion she took the cup from her servant's tray and placed it against her lower lip. Amelia paused for a moment to enjoy the feeling of the warm liquid in her hand, to take in it's scent before taking a small sip of the red liquid. As if in answer upon the motion, a pained yell rose up to the sky when another warrior went down.

The victor, a rather small, lithe looking female with the natural pale skin of a vampire and a pair of stunning green eyes, immediately threw herself sideways, evading the scything slash of a sword. Not wasting a moment, she stabbed her weapon, a quarterstaff between her opponent's legs. A quick, circular motion of her wrist made the staff hit the inside of the other vampire's knee and the male stumbled back. A moment later the smaller female rose up from the ground. Her opponent raised his sword up as if he was a lumberjack, preparing to cleave a wood block. However she slammed her own forearm against his, momentary forming the figure of a cross. Her arm was shaking heavily due to his greater strength, but it withheld him from bringing his sword arm down for a single moment. The pause allowed her to whirl past him, making him stumble forward. A hard kick against the hollow of his knee robbed him from all the strength in his already impaired left leg and made him fall upon his knees. Now helpless against the opponent behind his vulnerable back, the male stiffened whilst the female raised her quarterstaff again.

A shudder went through the vampire's body and then he laid his head down whilst a small stream of blood trickled down from underneath the black wrappings which hid his face.

High above the fighters, Amelia smiled, obviously pleased with the female combatant.

"Keep your wits together, Hera." She thought, recognising the young vampire easily enough. Truthfully it wasn't that hard to recognise her fledgling vampire, Hera was easily amongst the smallest and physically least impressive looking candidates. However since strength was only partly related to the seize of their muscles for a vampire, this was hardly a severe disadvantage. And even more than her figure, her green eyes were a well known, even unique calling card amongst the usually blue or yellow eyed vampires.

Lastly though, Hera had an unique way of bearing herself which drew her attention easily. She moved with an even for a vampire remarkable light tread, whilst keeping almost constantly in motion, usually whirling around and taking small steps in every direction within a certain pattern like a dancer during a performance or like Amelia suspected a bat who has to keep in motion to stay in the air.

"Does this batch of candidates meet your approval, Amelia." Asked a cold, but polite voice.

Amelia chuckled for a moment.

"They're entertaining enough." She admitted, granting the fighting vampires a short smile which went unnoticed by them. "But far to imperious."

She turned her head for a second, staring upwards, into the blue eyes of her companion, Ilona.

Ilona held her gaze for a few moments, then the vampire nodded and followed Amelia example by leaning back against the wall.

"It is a common flaw amongst those who spend a few decades honing their skills and fighting the mortals." Ilona replied, with a bit of annoyance in her voice. "It is something best cured by the experience of William's Brood."

"Unfortunately." Amelia said, agreeing with Victor's wife. "Fortunately, your daughter shows no trace of that flaw."

"Indeed." Ilona said, showing the Elder a rather rare smile. "I have trained her well."

Amelia smiled herself when she returned her gaze to what had turned into an arena. She saw Hera take another Vampire down, finishing her off by smacking the woman's head against the wall with enough force to loosen a few stones.

"Whatever the name of the vampire was, she had been a fool." Amelia thought. "Hera's status as a legacy of Corvinus was an excellently kept secret, so was the fact that it had been her, an elder who had turned her into a vampire. That Ilona had raised her, was not. It had a reason they unleashed a vampire of barely a decade old amongst those who were at least five times her age as vampire. Even if they doubted that Victor was her patron, Ilona remained one of the oldest and most powerful among the ranks of the Death Dealers. They should have realised that Hera would have been much more dangerous than her age implied."

Down in the courtyard, the battle continued. Hera dove underneath another swipe of a sword, this time using her stave to hold the man's sword in place and a moment later placed a rapid, two-fingered jab in the man's armpit, making him drop his weapon whilst a loud scream of pain erupted from his mouth. Freed from the sword she had held back a mere moment ago, Hera continued her dive past the warrior and turned around before he could, planting a boot in his back which knocked him straight in another fighting pair of warriors at the edge of the courtyard. Amelia knew that underneath the black cloth which obscured her features, Hera was sporting a sadistic grin. The teen wasted not even a single moment with hesitating, she threw herself instantly behind her latest victim upon her newest pair of prey. Both vampires hesitated for a moment, each of them having been too involved in their own duel to focus upon the rest of the battle. After that moment, the vampires stepped back, more intent of getting out of the flailing vampires path than to use the other's unguarded moment in an attempt to finish his rival off.

Hera did not hesitate. The vampire used her staff to knock the first duellist's weapon aside and lunged, making him step back to regain his balance. Still using the momentum of her little charge, Hera spun around, now aiming a one-handed strike with her stave upon the last vampire's side. It was mostly out of surprise that man likewise took a step back whilst blocking the relative weak hit of her quarterstaff.

Hera resisted the urge to swear. She had hoped to force them closer together, making them hinder each other whilst fighting her, rather than force herself between two opponents at the greatest range their swords would allow.

"It mattered little." She thought, although still annoyed with the result, whilst ramming her knee in the face of her previous opponent when he foolishly tried to get up rather than crawling for safety.

She took another step to side, making the first duellist's lunge miss her with only a few inches of air between the sword and her armoured body.

"The two were good, most certainly more experienced than herself and possibly even capable of beating her in a fair fight." She admitted to herself whilst knocking the duellist's sword in the direction of her other opponent.

Given their skill, she guessed that like herself, the two were simply waiting at the edge of the arena until the vampires at the centre had exhausted themselves and dropped most of the fifty in their attempt to get the tiara, before they would try it themselves.

"Too bad for them." She thought whilst giving the stave one final push and twisting her body for the next attack.

Opening her right-hand, she turned her weapon towards the other duellist, aiming another one-handed swing of her weapon at the vampires ribs. The man blocked the swipe of her weapon again, but that mattered little. She smiled when she saw his eyes widen when he followed the direction of her right-hand. Her hand closed itself around the hilt of the whip which hung from her belt, mere leather, no silver like the weapons which were employed by the Death Dealers but still a painful, if difficult and uncommon weapon. She liked it, despite its connection with torture and slavery.

Wisely the vampire jumped back almost instantly, trying to stay out of the much longer range of both her stave and whip. He failed to notice how she brought her hands together as if she was trying to hold both her weapons with her right hand. Instead of attacking the man, she turned around again, aiming the weapons at the other duellist who having spend that moment staring at her back which had hidden her actions, was still unaware of the whip. Seeing the position of her hands, the man successfully blocked her strike but only noticed the whip when he felt the smack of the leather which coiled itself around his gauntlets.

Hera gave a hard pull, dragging the man forwards whilst she stepped towards him. The man was left nothing but to mentally brace himself whilst he noticed the way she turned around to add extra momentum to her stave before it crashed into his unprotected face, mercifully he was instantly robbed of his consciousness.

Noticing the way she tugged at the whip, the remaining duellist realised it was still wrapped around the wrists of the now unconscious vampire and charged his remaining opponent. Hera seemed to waste a single moment whilst trying to release the whip from around the fallen vampire's gauntlets. The duellist lunged at her, only missing because she threw herself down, next to her previous victim. With concealed, but triumphant grin upon his lips the man raised his sword again, the grin froze when his sword met her stave once more. A moment later every feeling of triumph disappeared in an explosion of pain and he stumbled back. Another wave of pain struck and he was still reaching for the side of his head from which the wave had struck when soothing darkness fell in, replacing the pain a feeling of tiredness like he hadn't felt before since he became a vampire.

In front of the newly unconscious vampire, Hera chuckled once more.

"Overconfident oaf," She whispered whilst aiming a quick glance upon the hilt of the sword of the previous duellist she bested and which she was now holding in her hand. She noticed a bit of blood running down from the cross guard and falling upon her fingers. She resisted to urge to taste the cold, crimson fluid, just like she had resisted every drop of blood since the beginning of the contest.

"It was almost sad." she thought. Those two idiots had been skilled, she doubted she would have been able to best them if they had used their brains.

Hera shook her head. Those idiots had treated her as if she was merely another opponent in competition between swordsmen. They should have prepared for an enemy who was faster, stronger and more cunning than they were. Even if they had been ten times the swordsmen they were, it wouldn't have taken a werewolf more than moments to break through their defence and tear their face off. She had prepared herself for such and opponent, those two like so many others hadn't. She couldn't feel bad for kicking them out of the competition, but perhaps one day they would realise she had just saved their undead hides.

"It mattered little," she suspected and pointed her head at the centre of the battle.

"Sixteen, no seventeen remaining candidates." She counted.

"A few more moments," she thought whilst dropping the sword in her hand and reaching for her whip, "until there are only fifteen remaining."

Hera doubted she could hold out for long if more than three of them focused their attention upon her, she had to pick her moment carefully.

"Sixteen," she whispered whilst running to the right, having found a suitable prey.

Her body tensed up like a snake who was preparing to launch itself forward.

The different battles were further heating up, but she kept her poison-green eyes focused upon the three warriors who were locked in a three-way battle. All three were tired, and two of them sported wounds, however only of them seemed actually hindered by it. She smirked, the other two likewise smelled weakness. The man deflected a first slash, he tried to step past a second but was forced to block this attack instead when he moved out too slow. The only reason he wasn't taken out the competition at that instant was that neither of his opponents trusted the other not to stab him in the back whilst finishing the wounded vampire off.

Hera noticed the way the second vampire moved to the right, lengthening the distance between the two unimpeded vampires. It would give the first a chance to finish the third off and whilst it was too short to allow the second the chance of finishing him off, it would at the very least give him the upper hand for a few slashes.

Hera waited for one more second, than she sprung forward.

The moment the first vampire slammed the heavy pommel of his sword against the third's temple, her whip lashed out grasping the blade of his sword. A hard pull and the steel weapon clattered down upon the cobblestone floor. The vampire wasted a moment to seek for the origin of the whip, Hera repaid his attempt with a rapid stab of her stave which struck his windpipe. A human would have died due to her attack, a vampire did not but even a vampire was unable to fight if couldn't breathe without half choking. The second vampire lunged at her that instant and failed to touch her when a slight motion of the rear-end of her staff made the blade slide past her. Hera took a quick step to her left and a quick pull released her whip. A swipe of her staff touched his sword, slapping it aside and she stepped forward, slamming the butt of her whip into his face. Tears sprung in the man's eyes when she broke his nose. He made a quick but blind stab in her direction, creating an opening which she rewarded by planting her knee into his belly. Supported by that much vampyric strength the older vampire fell back, defeated. Hera guessed that in addition to his nose, she had broken at least one of his ribs.

She jumped past another fighting pair, not wasting any time with engaging them and slid her stave past another vampire's mace, ramming the blunt end of her stave directly into her belly whilst employing enough force to dent the metal. Another vampire down, she sank on one knee and raised her stave up, clutching it with both hands. The sword struck against oak, reinforced with leather and steel and slid down again, making Hera open her left hand for a moment so that the sword slid harmlessly past her fingers. Then the stave flew forward, aimed at her opponents face. The sword deflected her weapon. Then the warrior felt sleek fingers clutching his ankle, he had just the time to blink before Hera used her vampyric might to pull him past her and launch him at a small cluster of warriors that seemed intent upon assaulting her from behind her.

Hera now actually laughed and sprang up, a wide one-handed swipe of her staff forced all who surrounded her back, a quick underhand swing of her whip wound itself around the thigh of another vampire. She laughed even louder when she pulled him towards her, making him stumble towards her. Once more she introduced the reinforced butt of her stave to the face of a vampire. Aiming the tip of her pole a bit lower, she turned the earlier swipe in a stab which threatened the next vampire, making him step backwards out of her reach.

For a single moment she stood alone. One vampire, the youngest of them all, amidst of numerous older, much more experienced vampires than herself. All of them fools, they might have been among the best when human and even as vampires they remembered their human limits. Old habits died hard. She on the other hand, was mostly raised as a vampire and she barely remembered the limits which had once impeded her as a human. Let them employ the greater strength of a vampire, let them use the greater speed of the midnight aristocracy, what did they matter when one neglected the much greater balance and agility of one who's immortality was blessed by the bat?

She launched herself forward and wrapped her whip around the wrist of the current tiara-wearer, then she dropped the weapon. The man was still stumbling when she wrapped both her hands around the end of her stave and smashed her weapon against the man's cuirass. She had no idea how many ribs she broke, but he would be healed in less than a day. It was the tiara which he dropped which attracted her attention. She kneeled down and another circular swipe of her main-weapon withheld the others of reaching for the jewel. She swept the headpiece up and placed it upon the black cloth which veiled her features.

Another swipe and she stood up again, a growl erupted from a nearby vampire and the man jumped at her, slashing his sword down as if he tried to separate her head from her shoulders. Hera raised her staff protectively with a distance of maybe two feet between her hands. She stepped back, confident that the ones behind her were too involved in their own battle to attack her. The centre of her staff splintered with a loud crack, turning both newborn ends in a mess of splintered wood and mangled steel. Hera paid little attention to the glimmer of triumph in his eyes, she whirled around, offering as little resistance as possible to the man's assault, forcing him to step forward, almost past her to regain his balance whilst she whirled around. She thrusted the splintered end of her left weapon in the vampires neck, trusting his armour and the layers of cloth would keep her from killing him.

She took a deep breath and pointed both stick at the enemies surrounding her whilst taking a silent headcount, ten vampires.

She swore softly, that meant eleven with her, and all of them had their eyes firmly fixed upon her due to the tiara upon her head. She disliked these odds.

For a moment both her and the circle surrounding her remained motionless, then a moment before she was about to launch herself forward, a horn sounded.

"Enough!" yelled Amelia from atop of the wall, "the battle is over."

Hera lowered the remains of her staff slowly, almost as if expecting Amelia to change her mind and the battle to restart. Likewise most other vampires seemed confused.

Then one of the vampire's head began to loll and slowly the vampire slumped down, revealing another vampire behind him, his hand still raised from the time when he had supported him, but the small amount of blood upon the hilt of his sword made clear it hadn't been out of any feeling of kinship or affection.

"Ten remain." Amelia told them. "No less are required."

Even if many wanted to object to the presence of the last vampire, none dared to refuse her order.

* * *

"I am surprised you let that one get away with his trick." Ilona remarked to Amelia.

"Rather craven, isn't it?" Amelia told her, half entertained. "One got to admire such ingenuity."

"I do." Ilona admitted. "What I am less impressed with is his ability to take no more out than that one."

Her remark prompted a small chuckle from the Elder vampire.

"Tell me Amelia?" Ilona asked her, "Would you be just as likely to condone his actions if Hera hadn't been in the centre of the battle?"

Amelia narrowed her eyes in return.

"She's capable of holding her own, as she proved by taking the tiara."

Ilona's lips creased into a small smirk.

"That is not what I asked you, and you're well aware of that." She said.

"Would you have preferred it, if I left Hera to face the remaining candidates as well?" Amelia asked her in reply. "And in the process, allowed our craven friend to face a few more opponents?"

"I raised her as my own daughter, Amelia." Ilona said, now adopting a far more annoyed tone of voice. "Don't assume that I would prefer to see her fail, rather than succeed."

"She wouldn't like you half as much as she does now if you did." Amelia replied, now once more regaining a more amused tone of voice. "Neither would I for what that matters."

Ilona chuckled for a moment.

"She took a huge risk when she reached for that tiara, I doubt she would have sought the opportunity if a place amidst your own Death Dealers wasn't the reward." She said, with a rather stern voice. "She was always a bit to rash for her own good."

Amelia shrugged. "Experience has a way of curing that flaw." She replied. "although I know her well enough to doubt it is her own cunning or intelligence which is flawed."

Amelia pointed her yellow eyes at Ilona.

"Would you have preferred it, if it wouldn't have been my retinue which she joined?" Amelia asked her with an obvious warning in her voice.

"Was it wrong of me to hope she would serve in my own band me or Victor's instead?" Ilona asked her in return.

Amelia stared at her for a few moments with narrowed eyes, than she conceded that woman had a point.

"I doubt you'd deny her her well-earned her place in my own retinue." Amelia remarked though.

Ilona chuckled once more. "I doubt she'd ever forgive me for doing so." She whispered.

"She thinks the world of you, Amelia." Ilona told her with a tired voice. "Despite what my husband might have hoped for, as much as she cares for me, she's loyal to you first and me and him are only a distant second."

Amelia smiled in return, making Ilona catch a glimpse of a softer emotion in Amelia's eyes.

"I know." Amelia told her before turning around and walking towards the stairs. "That's why I leave now to see her."

"I won't hurt her, Ilona." Amelia told her without turning her head to Victor's wife. "But whatever it is that will happen is up to me and her, neither you nor Victor matter when it comes to that decision!"

She halted after those words and then she did turn her head, pointing her yellow eyes at Ilona. "Do I make myself clear?" she whispered coldly, her features bereft of any emotion, but without trying to mask the threat in her words.

Ilona felt her hair bristle but stepped back, knowing better than challenging the Elder.

* * *

 **Mind telling me what you thought about it?**


	2. The First Hunt

**It has taken a long time, but the second chapter is finally here.**

* * *

 **To answer some questions asked in PM's and reviews I would first like to make something clear about the powers of vampires in the underworld lore.**

 **In the lore, your sire and up to a certain level your generation are crucial, especially for a vampire. This has several reasons: simply status and therefore opportunities, but it also grants strength and abilities (the example of sifting through memories in blood is one example).**

 **Due to this, Marcus as the First of the vampires is supposed to be the strongest vampire closely followed by Victor and Amelia. These are the first generation.**

 **Then there is the Second generation, these are the vampires who are directly sired by an Elder (an example of these would be Selene). These are supposedly stronger than the "lower" generations, (I'll admit the comparison isn't exactly fair since the only confirmed second generation we see in action is Selene)**

 **There is made no mention of a third, fourth, fifth etc generation so supposedly the difference in strength disappears rapidly after the second).**

 **Furthermore you have those outside of those generations: these are Sonja and the other natural born vampires (they're said to inherited the strain of both parents, so we can assume that if she survives Sonja will end up becoming more powerful than her father), Hera (whilst technically a second generation, her magic and Corvinus-lineage will set her apart from the others) and the hybrids like Eve and Michael.**

 **The werewolves and lycans follow a similar pattern, although their hierarchy is not as clearly and formally established due to their wilder and chaotic nature.**

 **For Example William towers above the others in strength seize and rage, but it also means his bite is much more infectious than the standard werewolf. In the canon even those killed by him can turn into werewolves and remain in this form even after dying again. This trait is inherited by his first generation although the werewolves no longer retain their wolf-like shape after dead. The second generation and beyond lack the ability to turn the dead in the wolves.**

 **Whilst it therefore seems like the First and Second generations have a massive advantage, this is merely a much better starting point rather than a predestined superiority. Age, coincidence and most importantly feeding habits are of the highest importance. Whereas this last is mostly an addition of my own, I do feel it fits rather in this kind environment. (Also I admit, I rather like the idea of vampires being forced to kill if they wanne survive whether they like it or not).**

 **In the canon there are laws which forbid vampires from assaulting and drinking of humans without the permission from the coven, just like there are exceptions during which these are abandoned (for example to create new vampires).**

 **It always seemed rather strange that Victor was willing to go to take such extreme risks due to his need "to snack". However it is often an established part of a vampire-universe that a well fed vampire is stronger than a poorly fed one. This is here the case as well. Whilst vampires can survive with only an occasional intake of human blood on top of animal blood, a vampire who regularly feeds from humans will recover faster from wounds whilst simultaneously gain in power faster than one who isn't.**

 **This explains why Victor breaks his own law after the establishment of it. It is not that hard to imagine Victor creating the law in the first place to have a simple means of controlling the general vampire population. Since it wouldn't be that difficult for him and a select elite of well fed vampires (with most them most likely Death Dealers due to his own background) to control the rest of the less well fed and less experienced population.**

* * *

A gloved hand brushed gently over the mark in the ground, wiping a few leaves and broken branches away from the trace of their prey. The scout sighed, the edges of the print were soft. It had been a long time since their prey had left this indent in the ground.

The warrior shook his head and raised his gaze towards the Elder who was waiting for his words.

"It has been some time since they passed the edges of the forest, my lady." The man whispered. "One days at the very least, possibly a second too."

The yellow eyes stared for a few more moments at Duris from behind her skull shaped visor. The man instinctively bowed his head again, knowing that his words had caused the displeasure of the Elder.

He wasn't fearing for his life, Amelia was often cold and occasionally even cruel, but not as prone as to fits of violence as the other Elders in their anger or disappointment. Still, this hunt hadn't been a fortunate one and neither had been the previous journey. He knew that the lack of success from either chase was a simple twist of fate rather than the result of his own failings. However he knew from his own experience that a lack of luck could easily become as much a blame as a true mistake would.

"Luckily there are no human villages in this part of the land." Amelia muttered angrily. "But finding them will be a chore."

"The land is rife with streams and rocks, my lady." The scout told her. "Even the dogs would be unable to follow their trail here."

"Indeed," admitted Amelia, a good thing in Duris's eyes. "If I recall correctly, Victor mentioned that Soren lost several packs in here."

Duris couldn't withhold his lips from curling at the mention of "Victor's pit bull's" recurrent failing. He loathed the slave overseer turned Death Dealer and he knew he wasn't alone in his dislike from the vampire. Whilst Soren was an excellent fighter, he was better known for his savagery upon those who couldn't fight back than his courage against those who could. Still, Soren was a Death Dealer so his courage was rarely if ever questioned.

"How come these Werewolves can disappear so easily in this area?" Asked a curious voice from behind them. He blinked instinctively when he recognised the voice of the newest member of the Elder's retinue. Duris resisted the urge to shake his head, upon hearing her speak loud enough for the Elder to hear her.

Instead the scout raised his head up, waiting for Amelia's reaction.

The Elder paused for a moment and took a deep breath whilst removing her own helmet. Duris blinked for a moment when he saw Hera stare at Amelia with the same curious expression, obviously expecting the Elder to answer her.

"This land is difficult to travel," Amelia told her with a pleasant voice, whilst fixing her yellow eyes upon Ilona's daughter. "with a great many hills and only slightly less cleaves and streams. You could have an entire army march a few feet in front of you and still be unable to see them. The multitude of small streams makes it impossible for a dog to follow a scent whilst they provide plenty of opportunities to hide your trail and on top of that, the rocky underground of the remaining areas makes it most unlikely you leave a noticeable trail."

Hera nodded in return. "It sounds like an excellent hideout if you don't want to be found." Replied Hera whilst removing her own helmet from her head and extending her other arm upwards, seemingly aiming a smile towards the moon.

The soft beating of leathery wings could be heard through the night and it was scarcely a moment later that the bat had landed upon Hera's gloved hand in a similar manner to a trained hawk.

Hera gifted the bat with a sweet looking smile which stopped just after she exposed her fangs and brought the bat closer to her, giving Moka the chance to hop over to her shoulder. The bat instantly rubbed her head affectionately against Hera's whilst the vampire repaid the favour by brushing two fingers down the back of the bat's body.

"That it is." Amelia admitted after throwing a quick glare at the remaining Death Dealers, making clear that none of them was allowed to speak up.

Whether she was unaware of Amelia's expression, distracted as the girl seemed to be by her little friend or simply uncaring was something none of the other Death Dealers knew.

"I assume, it is not unusual for a pack of werewolves to run to this area?" Hera asked Amelia with a to the other Death Dealers surprising calm voice.

Amelia smiled, obviously pleased with the youngest member of her retinue.

"Actually," She said. "whilst it isn't, it is highly unusual for a newly turned pack such as these to run to these forests. Usually the fear caused by their superstition lingers for a couple of months or even years before they're willing to enter these forests of their own volition. The only time I ever heard of a pack entering directly after turning was when they were led by William."

After these words Amelia focused a quick glare specifically upon Duris.

"William didn't lead these beasts." Hera told her self-confident. "There is no trace of him, nor is there his customary trace of destruction."

She paused for a moment.

"You think another, older Werewolf took control of the pack?" Hera asked her.

"I am certain of it." Amelia grumbled whilst focusing her glare again upon Duris. "Most likely one of the First or the Second generation. The animal must have joined the pack a couple of days ago."

Duris bowed his head. He had started to suspect the same thing several hours ago, but he had dismissed the thought since he found no clues which supported his suspicion. Finding out that he had been right and that due to his silence, Amelia had been forced to figure the same out on her own, was not something that promised much good for his direct future.

"Will we go after them?" Hera asked her, with obvious enthusiasm.

Amelia reciprocated her happy expression for another moment, but then shook her head.

"They're most likely not too far away from here." She admitted. "But daylight is only a few hours away and we can't afford to waste several hours looking for them."

"How come, my lady?" Hera asked Amelia. "I thought we were at least a day behind them?"

Amelia chuckled softly, then she pointed her gaze at the scout.

"They've been running almost without stopping for days." Duris reminded her. "Corvinus knows who or what drove them onwards. They'll be hunting and resting before going deeper in the forest."

"I see." Hera replied. "Such a shame, how many hours do we have until we have to return to a shelter?"

"Two hours," Amelia replied without so much as a single hesitation, obviously well-known about the region. "Maybe another half an hour if we're willing to brave the first light by keeping to the shadows."

Amelia aimed her yellow eyes at Hera with some curiosity. "Why? What are you suggesting?" She asked Hera.

Her fledgling nudged the bat upon her shoulder with her head, making the animal instantly straighten herself whilst fixing her little head at the Elder. Some of the nearby Death Dealers eyed the unanimal-like behaviour with some curiosity, Amelia on the other hand had since longue gotten accustomed to the unusual behaviour of Moka and with it what seemed like a much greater intelligence than any other animal could boast of.

"I understand we can't enter the forest, my lady." Hera said. "Both due to the threat of daylight and the threat of the beasts."

She smiled and placed two fingers against the bat's head. "However whilst impossible for us, Moka could do both without any danger for herself." Hera carefully brushed the side of Moka's head whilst saying that.

"Even if they're to far away for us to strike," Hera continued. "Moka could find them or at least make us aware of noticeable characteristics of this pack, parts of the route they took and so on."

"If nothing else we would be able to leave some traps behind upon a spot where they're likely to claim a victim." Hera continued.

Amelia stared at her for a moment. She could easily see the merit in the suggestion.

Furthermore, she knew Hera well enough to know that she wasn't bluffing, the girl obviously believed that she "controlled" Moka well enough to do so. It did made her wonder at the limits of her bond with Moka. Not that Hera had ever tried to hide or even circumscribe her bond with the animal in Amelia's or as far as the Elder knew, Ilona's proximity. Still, there was an obvious difference between a few miles of carefully patrolled woods next to one of their hideouts and fortresses and the much denser, dangerous forest here. Furthermore, what interaction between the two she had witnessed so far had been little more than games and comforting. As much as she liked and trusted Hera, she wasn't certain to which amount she trusted Moka with such a task.

Amelia hesitated for a moment, than she made a dismissive motion with hand.

"Send her out!" She ordered the youngest Death Dealer. "So far it seems like this hunt will be without a reward, perhaps she'll have our luck turn for the better."

"How long does she have?" Hera asked her.

Amelia paused for moment. "An hour." She said. "If she does find something, we'll have a small window of time during which we can act before we have to return for the morning sun."

Hera nodded instantly and whispered something in Moka's ear.

A moment later Moka seemed to fall forward from Hera's shoulder, but before Moka even fell past the belly of Hera's horse she had extended her wings and made her way upwards into the sky.

* * *

It was a little over half an hour later when Amelia noticed Hera suddenly straighten her back and raise an arm. Moments later her yellow eyes detected the movement between the trees.

Rather than landing upon the outstretched arm from Amelia's fledgling Moka dropped something in the palm of Hera's hand. The bat flew over the head from her mistress before turning around again and landing upon Hera's shoulder who promptly rewarded her little friend with quickly whispered compliments and a caressing hand.

"What?" Asked Amelia surprised whilst steering her horse towards the young vampire who promptly extended her arm into Amelia's direction.

Eying the object in Hera's hand the Elder Princess instantly recognised the object as a small broche. A bauble made of bronze, leather and wood which was adorned with the picture of a white stag. For a moment Amelia stared at the piece of jewellery, than she crushed it in her grip.

"Magyar," she whispered angrily.

She heard the angry muttering among her horsemen.

"What are those pillagers doing here?" She asked, not expecting anyone to answer her.

Instead she turned her head towards Hera, who had kept complimenting Moka.

"What did she discover?" Amelia asked her, still feeling somewhat foolish for aiming her question at the mistress of a bat rather than a scout.

"Moka found the owner of this," Hera paused for a moment whilst eying the remains of the rather rough looking clasps disdainfully. "bauble and his friends a little over nine miles into the forest, next to a small stream."

"They're all dead." Hera continued "and it looked like they were killed a little under a day ago."

"Most of them were heavily mutilated and nearly all of them and their horses shown traces of claws and teeth."

Hera paused after for a moment whilst Moka kept chirping at her. "I am quite certain she's trying to describe the results of the meal of our hairy friends." Hera continued with a dry sounding voice.

A moment later all saw Hera frowning curiously.

"There were traces of maybe four wagons, each of them destroyed and..." Hera paused again. "She guesses a little over nine times a dozen bodies of horses."

"That means she guesses there are a little over 108 killed horses," Hera explained after doing the math. "Counting high numbers seems rather difficult for Moka, I tried to come up with some mnemonics for situations like these." She continued.

Despite the situation, Amelia couldn't help but chuckle. As if another girl could have acted as if it was remotely ordinary that you taught your bat to count. Somehow she suspected that Hera actually did consider it a logical thing to do.

"Maybe half of those horses might have had a rider?" Hera said or asked with a clear frown. "Since that many had a saddle but there were far less riders than saddled horses. Maybe half of those horsemen were gone as well."

Amelia swore in return, rather loudly too.

"My lady?" Hera asked her.

"At least one of William's own spawn was leading those animals." Amelia told her.

She turned her head violently towards Moka. "Were there any clues which implied they waited there for them to turn?" Amelia asked the bat.

Hera whispered the same with a much gentler voice at Moka whilst brushing a finger through Moka's coat.

"Clue's?" She asked Amelia after a couple of seconds.

For a moment Amelia aimed a glare at Hera, then she took a deep breath and schooled her features again.

"Did she see a large number of paw prints, scratch marks upon nearby trees, any traces of two wrestling werewolves for example?" Amelia asked her, easily recalling the violent and savage nature of William's breed.

"She didn't, my lady." Hera replied after a few moments.

Amelia snarled for a moment, exposing her fangs. "That means they've been turned as well!"

She took another deep breath. "A quarter of a hundred and eight, that's twenty-seven. That means something between twenty and thirty newly turned werewolves that we know off."

"I'll need to mention this to Victor and Marcus." She growled. "We assumed we had locked this area off from humans by stopping those peasants from ever approaching it, now it seems the Magyar smelled an opportunity to fall upon them through the woods."

"Only the devil knows how many have reinforced Williams ranks through their stupidity!" Amelia muttered angrily.

"Do you think they'll followed them into the forest, my lady?" Hera asked her curiously.

"Perhaps, "Amelia admitted. "Newly turned werewolves are usually caught between their instincts and the remnants of their human desires and fears."

She turned her head once again towards the bat. "Those wagons and horses, were they loaded with loot or not?" Amelia asked with a loud voice.

Hera paused for a few moments after repeating that question.

"Moka believes them to be heavily packed." Hera said after a while, obviously hesitating. "However I admit I am not certain what her definition of heavily packed is."

For a moment Amelia looked frustrated than she slapped a hand upon the satchel which had been thrown in front of her saddle.

"Their bags with fodder." Amelia asked Hera who seemed to blink for a moment. "How heavy were they?"

Amelia couldn't help but wonder when she saw Moka chirp softly whilst brushing her head against Hera's cheek who was obviously listening attentively.

"Their nets were almost empty." Hera said with a confident voice, before rubbing a finger once more across Moka's back.

Amelia smirked in return.

"Good, that means they expected to find some fodder in a nearby town." Amelia explained.

"Duris!" Amelia called out with a loud and clear voice.

Said scout approached her instantly, in his haste he was walking so fast that he almost pulled his horse forward by the reins rather than merely leading the animal.

"My lady?" He asked her, obviously wary to invoke more of her anger than he already had.

"How long has it been since we had this area cleaned of mortals?" Amelia asked him.

"A little over twenty years, I'd say." Duris told her. "Although there have been a few minor infractions from overtly adventurous or desperate mortals in the past."

"Thank you, Duris. I thought so as well." Amelia said whilst throwing the scout a map. "Do you recall the position of most of the nearby villages at the time?"

Duris was well aware that the Elder hadn't forgotten his earlier mistake, but he recognised an opportunity to make up for his earlier mistake when he was given one.

"There were no real villages in the direct vicinity of the forest." Duris replied after pausing to gather his thoughts.

"However," He went on, "there used to be a monastery nearby to what is now the edge of the forest. In the days there lived at least a hundred monks and numerous peasants who served their needs." Duris continued, showing a noticeable contempt with the way he spat the words monks and monastery.

Duris hesitated for another moment. "I would advice," He whispered, obviously uncomfortable with advising the Elder when he still was on her bad side. "that we check that one out for sure, we still have an unmanned hideout in the direct vicinity of the ruins of the monastery."

Amelia paused for a moment, obviously contemplating the suggestion.

Then she nodded. "An excellent suggestion." She admitted. "Lead the way!"

"Hera," She told the girl, who instantly straightened the moment the Elder laid an eye upon her. "have Moka accompany him and search for a trace from our new prey!"

The young Death Dealer nodded and after brushing her hand a last time against Moka's head, the bat spread her wings and disappeared in the darkness of the night.

* * *

The monastery had been a huge building in its day, more akin to a fortress than a place of silence, worship and work. Then again, considering how far it had been removed from the castles and fortress of the human nobles this was more a necessity than anything else. Even without the threat of vampires and werewolves, the humans in these land had been a beleaguered people. Slavs, Franks, a number of Greeks and Magyar had been in constant struggle for survival and dominance. If the Franks weren't trying to burn their enemies territories, than either the Slavs were raiding, the Greeks scheming or the Magyar pillaging, or just as likely all of that had been happening at the same time. The madness that was religion had hardly made the life of the people any easier.

According to Hera, it was a small wonder that most peasants generally accepted the rule of the vampires with such a quiet resignation. In more than one way the rule of the vampires tended to weigh less upon them than their human masters had.

Of course, Hera knew better than to believe that they saw it the same way. It was due to this that the vampires kept themselves away from the bulk of humanity and allowed them to be ruled by nobles and councils from their own species. Or at least for as long as those people remembered who the real rulers were.

The neighing of her horse, Nyx, awoke her from her musings.

Hera couldn't help but allow a low hiss to escape her lips when she saw the ruins of the monastery.

In the sixteen years she had walked the earth she could recall only three living representatives of a religion, a priest and two travelling monks who had been captured by the hunters of Ilona, fanatical madmen who preached that only acceptance of one's suffering and misfortune lead to Heaven and that being a vampire meant you were a soulless monster that had to be destroyed. The second she had laughed away, but not the first one.

Hera could hardly recall a thing from her time with her "family", but she remembered how much she had feared them and hated them. If she ever saw them again, she intended to balance the scales rather than forgive or even thank them.

Gazing upon the monastery, Hera reached down for her crossbow and after pulling the string back with a practiced ease, placed a quarrel upon the groove of stock.

Her action was repeated by more than half of the other Death Dealers and so did Amelia.

The monastery had fallen it to ruins, several parts of the once massive outer walls had turned into rather gentle slopes of rubble, stones, wood and earth covered by dirt and mosses. The towers themselves seemed mostly untouched and so did the main building, a square and rather oblong place which seemed more like an especially low donjon than a church or anything remotely religious.

"Twenty years?" Hera asked with a disbelieving voice.

Duris turned his head towards the youngest Death Dealer and nodded. "We required a lot of stones for some of our nearby hideouts." He added as an explanation.

Hera nodded absentmindedly, whilst keeping her crossbow ready. The night was still rather dark and the sun wouldn't rise until another hour and a half. As a result the ruins seemed a dark and sombre place, filled with ancient and malicious memories. No doubt a mortal would expect the vampire to feel at home in this decor, however instead she felt suffocated and threatened.

The place was dark and gloomy all right, however it lacked even the slightest bit of the sinister beauty or dark elegance which would have been so appreciated by a vampire.

Instead it felt just like what it had been; an ugly placed constructed by a human with access to way more stones and manpower that talent or even mere imagination. She suspected a child with some wooden blocks would have constructed something similar upon a particularly depressing day. Chasing the humans out and partially tearing the place down hadn't made the remains any more hospitable though.

The girl repressed a smirk, not that anyone would be able to see it behind the skull-shaped visor from her helm. If there was a way, a building could gain sentience, Hera would have been certain it was hating them, possibly even more than it had hated it's original occupants.

"Has Moka returned to you?" Amelia asked Hera whilst halting her horse in front of the gate.

"Searching these ruins will take time, my lady." Hera reminded her bashfully.

"I know." Amelia admitted before turning her head towards the forest. "However, they can just as easily hide in there as here and behind those walls we'll be better able defend ourselves than in the open." She added.

"Call Moka back, Hera." Amelia ordered her. "Have her scout our entrance, then we'll search the remains of the buildings ourselves."

Hera nodded, than she smiled and Amelia heard her whisper the bat's name. Moka landed upon her shoulder in a matter of moments.

Amelia blinked for a moment. "Was she already upon her way?" the Elder asked.

"She rarely needs more than that when I'd like her company." Hera added as an explanation.

Amelia cocked her head for a moment, but decided that the mystery probably wasn't worth the headache of searching for a proper explanation.

"Did she see something?" Amelia asked her.

"The places is thick with scents and marks of William's brood." Hera told her whilst drawing her gloved finger across Moka's spine as a reward for the bat's efforts.

"Any indication of them being present, as well?" Amelia asked her.

"Perhaps in the cellars or more far off rooms, but there are none nearby or dwelling in the open." Hera said, repeating Moka's impressions.

Amelia nodded in return whilst steering her horse towards the entrance.

"Stay by my side inside." She told Hera, than she aimed her yellow eyes at Duris.

"Select five picked warriors to guard the horses." She ordered him. "The rest of you, travel in groups of four, if there is something in there that's alive, I want it found and killed before we got to risk spending the day here."

* * *

Amelia raised an eyebrow curiously when she felt the breeze caused by the billowing cloak from the Death Dealer when Hera whirled around, the muscles of her arms just as tense as the steel limbs from her crossbow.

"Calm your nerves, Hera." Amelia told her chidingly, although the woman took great care that at no point her voice seemed harsher than that of a kind-hearted teacher who scolded a particularly favoured pupil who made an small, but understandable error.

The Elder noticed that even when helmeted, the young vampire still looked away in a timid fashion which she found out some time ago had been limited to Hera's interaction with herself.

Whilst most vampires who had know Hera would usually compare her to her adopted mother qua behaviour, which was a generally a mixture of aloof politeness and calculating intelligence with a hint of kindness which Ilona herself usually failed to show to anyone but her adopted daughter and her husband, Amelia's and especially Moka's presence tended to remove the worst edges of her behaviour and encouraged the more playful, affectionate side of the vampire. Unfortunately, Amelia had also noticed that Hera tended to be a bit more self-conscious around her.

Hera nodded in return and paused to check her weapon for a moment, when it seemed that it hadn't suffered due to the sudden motion, she raised her head again, pointing the green orbs at Amelia's yellow ones.

Amelia could easily hear the deep intake of breath which Hera took.

"I am calm and ready, my lady." Hera replied with a much calmer, but due to her steel helmet slightly muffled voice.

Amelia smiled in return, an action that due to her own open helmet was perfectly visible.

"Good," she whispered before motioning Hera to follow her.

The Elder walked with slow, measured paces. A clear contrast with the much more fleet-footed Death Dealer.

Truth to be told, Amelia knew that if it hadn't been for her vampyric nature, Hera might have heard her heart beat, just like she would have heard hers. She blamed the approaching sun for this nervosity. It was only a little over a hour until sunrise and whilst Duris had assured her that the hideout was only a ten minutes away, she disliked such close odds. She was as close to immortality as one could get, the idea of losing all that due to a poor timing was as infuriating as it would be painfully and embarrassing.

It was not as if she would be unable to hide into the monastery though, as damaged as it was, there were plenty of cellars, crannies and corners even if she wouldn't be able to find a hideout amidst of the labyrinth of rubble between the walls. In truth, the monastery would have served easily as a hideout against the sun. However she knew equally well that it would be the end for most of her Death Dealers if they were forced to stay here and the Werewolves attacked during daylight. She had seen the aftermath of several attacks such as these. Most of them small patrols from their warriors who had set out against the humans, units which had been surprised by the rapid approach of the sun and had been sniffed out by werewolves.

She smiled reassuringly at Hera, noticing the small motion of her eyes through the holes in her vision, which most likely implied a similar smile in return.

She wasn't planning to risk such a fate. If they did not find werewolves soon, they would leave for a safe hideout, no matter the traces of werewolves which were found. Another night, another chance.

"Ready your weapon!" Amelia ordered Hera with a calm voice, making the other vampire nod in return. The Elder gave a probing push with her foot against the door of the stable. The rusty hinges croaked almost painfully but the door swung open.

She could see several rats scurrying away from the moonlight which now entered their hideout.

Amelia lips creased into a small smile at the sight. If there were rats in there, it meant there were no werewolves in their direct vicinity.

Still it wouldn't hurt to check the remaining boxes, even if it was only to see how Hera reacted with the imagined threat of Werewolves breathing down her neck.

Amelia lingered a bit before the first box so Hera could overtake her and then kept a careful eye upon the back from the much younger vampire.

"Everything's clear." Whispered Hera whilst pointing her head at Amelia.

"Then we keep moving." Replied Amelia whilst pointing her head at a small tower at one of the four corners of the outer wall.

"I understand, my lady." Hera said in return, immediately following the Elder who with a few quick paces made certain that she walked first.

It didn't took more than a few steps before she had reached the walls. A massive spider's web made instantly clear that the tower hadn't been disturbed in a long time.

Rather than moving down again to search another part of the monastery, Amelia leaned down against the walls and peered in the direction of where she expected the sun to set.

She frowned for a moment, showing the obvious hatred for Apollo's chariot which her kind was known for, then the Elder Princess lowered her gaze. She could see wisps of mist swirling around, slowly ascending from the lower valley towards the monastery.

"Hera?" Amelia asked her companion. "Is Moka close to the lower valley?"

"She is not, my lady." Hera repeated.

Amelia nodded and slowly removed the glove from her left hand.

"My lady?" Hera asked her curiously.

Amelia ignored Hera for a moment and slipped her little finger between her own lips, then she raised said finger up again whilst stretching her, keeping her otherwise closed fist as far away from her body as possible.

The elder vampire felt the slightly greater cold at the inside of her finger.

"We have the wind at our back, Hera." Amelia told the girl. "If they're nearby, they know we are as well."

"They're coming?" Hera asked her, then the vampire stifled and turned her head rapidly at a point high above the ground, but not far away from the direction of the lower valley.

"They are coming." Hera confirmed.

Moka?" Amelia asked her, already knowing the answer.

A loud growl interrupted whatever it was that Hera would have said.

"Seems like they're already here." Amelia muttered angrily.

A moment later the Elder jumped down, closely followed by Hera.

* * *

Neither of two women had an idea about the number of werewolves that had already been present between the walls, not that this mattered by a lot. Like humans, vampires tended to brag and one of the most common subjects from that nature, apart from the number of partners they had or the amount times they had made them scream during the day, was the number of werewolves they had killed. Amelia had heard the stories more often then she cared to count, and unfortunately like most people bragging about their sex-life, those who were loudly bragging about their number were more often than not equally big liars as they were braggarts.

If even a tenth of the stories which were told had been correct, she suspected that even humans would hold no fear for William's spawn.

The fact that so many vampires could rightly claim that they had killed a werewolf or had even been capable of acquiring an impressive number of notches in their belt had nothing to do with them being easily killed. Rather the reverse, werewolves were powerful, fast and notoriously savage. Even a single werewolf could hold its own against several vampires and in some way, their primitive, rage addled brains had realised this as well. Therefore it was not rare to see a single werewolf turn upon four or more vampires. In a direct confrontation William's spawn would more often than not end up the victor too. However the race of vampires had one advantage which granted them a last laugh over the other descendants of Corvinus, Silver. It burned, weakened and more often than not killed a werewolf even if it had failed to save the life of a vampire.

Amelia heard the heaving sound of the furious werewolf turn in an almost human-like mewling when her quarrel pierced the animal's skull, finally finishing him off.

She growled seeing the slain Death Dealer underneath the dying animal.

She recognised the slain vampire's face due to the gap between the cheek guards of his helmet. Arius, a Greek whom she had turned herself a little under a century ago. The man had been exemplary Death Dealer. Such a pithy his spear broke under the violence of the werewolf's assault.

Three crossbow bolts were stuck in his assailant, plus the remains from his victim's broken weapon.

Two more Death Dealers stood next to their fallen brother, one was a thuggish looking spear bearer, whose name escaped Amelia for the moment. The other was a woman, Egeria, who had been in a relationship with Arius for maybe a decade or so. A heavy looking sword lay rather weakly in her now shaking hands, whilst her primary weapon, a crossbow, lay a few feet away from her. The last two remaining Death Dealers stood several paces behind them and both were desperately trying to keep the horses corralled.

"Get the horses away from here." Amelia ordered the four remaining Death Dealers with an impatient voice. "Not even one in ten of us can hope to reach safety if they're killed or escape."

The two nearby Death Dealers nodded quickly and then rejoined the others, Amelia noticed Egeria's gaze lingering upon Arius' body whilst following the others.

For a single moment Amelia's eyes softened, then that little show of emotion was gone again.

She turned her head towards Hera who was likewise staring at the slain monster and his victim.

"Drop your cloak!" Amelia reminded Hera admonishingly. "You don't want to give them more to grab a hold off."

The girl nodded instantly and hastily unbuckled the clasp which had kept the heavy cloak upon her shoulders.

Amelia gave approving look.

"Take to the top, travel the roofs and walls." She ordered her. "Shoot everything that's big and hairy and don't come down!"

"I will." Hera told her with a soft voice. "Take care, my Lady."

Amelia chuckled for a moment, then the vampire offered her a gentle smile.

"Tell your bat to watch your back, Hera." She said.

"Know that I will be doing the same for you." Hera replied with a soft voice, almost too soft to be heard by anyone but her and Moka who had arrived moments ago.

Another chuckle escaped Amelia's lips after catching those words, however arrogant they might have seemed to anyone else than the Elder.

More growls reverberated through the ruins and Amelia began to run, she was still running when she pulled the cord of her crossbow back and placed a new quarrel in the slit. Behind her Hera jumped at the closest wall whilst extending her arms, the Death Dealer's nails caught a hold of the grooves between the stones and she pulled herself upwards with an ease which hinted at the inhuman strength from her undead muscles.

The top of the ruins were covered with mosses and felt slippery, still this did not withhold Hera from racing over the stones with a sure-footedness which no human could have hoped to equal.

Spread throughout the ruins Hera heard some of the first sounds of battle, the loudest of these were the growling of the massive predators which had hidden themselves in the ruins. These growls betrayed anger and rage, but likewise contained a hint of frustration and pain. It was clear that despite the advantage of surprise, the vampires hadn't been defeated by the small number of their assailants.

However she caught a glimpse of movement from the corner of her eye.

A moment later she stopped in her tracks as if she had bumped into an invisible wall. The first of many werewolves appeared from behind the outer-walls and jumped down before disappearing between the ruins.

This lone werewolf was followed by what seemed like a flood from the beasts.

"Elders!" Hera exclaimed distraught at the sight.

Still this did not withhold her from aiming her crossbow and launching her second quarrel into the pack.

She heard a pained growl and saw a single werewolf simultaneously miss a step, but it did not withhold the animal from continuing its assault upon the ruins.

A soft growl escaped her own lips at this and she pushed the cord of crossbow back before placing a third bolt in the slit of her weapon.

"Stay down!" She whispered angrily whilst launching the quarrel at another target.

The bolt flew true, still considering the speed of the animals, the thick muscles and the small seize of the area where a bolt could kill a werewolf instantly, she knew it was mostly a wasted wish.

From the moment after she had released the bolt, she had been certain she had missed the area. However whilst crossing the small distance towards the werewolves, it seemed as if the tip of her quarrel had shifted marginally, almost as if she willed the projectile into the spot. She saw the werewolf stumble and then fall, without a chance to ever rise again.

Hera smirked and placed another bolt in the slot of her weapon, however whereas at first the werewolves had ignored her as a minor annoyance, this was no longer the case.

Two werewolves aimed their heads at the young vampire and broke from the pack, straight at her.

Hera took a deep breath and pointed her weapon at a point just above the wall which was nearest to the wolves. The moment she saw it's head rear up above the walls, she pushed the steel trigger against the stock thereby releasing the bolt.

The beast's growl was abruptly cut off, for a single second the werewolf kept hanging to the walls by the grace of his curved claws and tensed muscles. Then it slid back and fell upon the ground, breaking the wooden shaft of the quarrel which had penetrated his left eye.

"Two werewolves, three with the help of Amelia and the horse-guards." Hera thought whilst turning around and she started to run in attempt to increase the distance between her pursuer and herself.

She swore softly. She had been lucky, extremely lucking to get these last kills. Hera sped up, not bothering for the moment to reload her weapon.

Instead she fixed all her attention upon the crumbling walls underneath her boots and before her. She could hear the pursuer approach her rapidly behind her, even if he was slowed down by the narrow seize of the walls. She could hear the blood racing to her head and cursed her arrogance for a moment. The remaining distance of wall was shortening rapidly, in a couple of moments she would be forced to choose between jumping down and risk getting either thrown down by a nearby werewolf or being jumped by her pursuer or she could attempt to bridge the gap to the unstable roof of an already half destroyed shack. And there was no doubt in her mind that if she could make it, so could the werewolf.

Well a certain death or a massive risk, what to pick? She jumped!

For a single moment it seemed as if she was floating in the air, then she landed. She felt her legs smack against the corner where stone met with the roof tiles and exclaimed a quick oath whilst her right-hand moved to her hip. A moment later, she instinctively threw herself down whilst extending her right arm.

The dark shadow which had landed next to her exclaimed a loud howl of pain when the silver coils of the whip in her right hand tore through fur, skin, flesh and muscle. A moment later she stood upon her legs again. Hera knew there was no time to lose, she had to hurt him. There was nothing she could do but that, no fancy or elegant motions, no positioning or leverage like Ilona had taught her whilst instructing her how to wield a sword or staff. Just raging instincts and desperation. She kept smashing the leather and silver studs at the werewolf's body. For a few moments the werewolf just took the beating whilst growling painfully, perhaps subjected to memories from before his transformation. However it took only moments before he grabbed a hold of the coils and despite his obvious pain, kept a hold of it, rendering Hera's weapon useless even if Hera could actually hear the Werewolf's skin searing where he held it.

Hera growled in return and slammed her body against him, simultaneously smashing the spiked but of her whip's handle into his eye.

A painful howl erupted from his jaws and the werewolf fell back, down upon the street several feet below Hera. And out of the reach from her whip.

There was no time to look down in triumph upon the defeated werewolf and Hera knew that too. With her undead hart still beating faster than it ever had done since Amelia had turned her, Hera reached for the small dagger, which she had strapped at her back. It was more a tool than an actual weapon, but still it had been adorned with silver runes and therefore it would be enough.

She threw the weapon down, directly into the werewolf's stomach where it pierced the hard layers of muscles. He wasn't dead, Hera knew that much, but in combination with the wounds she had given him before it would be minutes at most before he would be.

Hera wasted a single moment to stare down at the poisonous werewolf blood that now stained her whip. She shuddered, then she wrapped it loosely around her leftarm whilst reaching for her crossbow and pulled the cord back again.

"Right," she whispered to herself and aimed a look at the direction in which Amelia had disappeared again."

A few streets of rubble from Hera, Amelia had found several patrols of her Death Dealers, although the majority was still missing. She wasn't worried about them though, whereas she knew some of them would have found their second dead in the struggle, by now most of them should have found an easily defensible position. She had little doubt that most werewolves would have been killed by pikes and bolts before they could hope to slaughter these entrenched vampires.

In fact, she suspected that it were her current companions who were the most likely vampires to end up dying tonight.

Amelia took a quick step backwards which made the claws of the werewolf smash through the rotten wood of the building's wall, peppering the vampire with a rain of splinters. Another swipe of his second arm was evaded by the vampire with a quick step to her right whilst she returned the courtesy by simultaneously stabbing her sword upwards, straight through the beast's palate into his brain. For a moment the werewolf kept standing in front of her, a moment later the werewolf collapsed as if his bones had disappeared.

A soft growl escaped Amelia's throat whilst she bared her canines at her next opponent, a sleek and thin-furred werewolf who seemed intent upon charging her head. Amelia gave the beast a contemptuous smirk whilst grabbing her sword with both hands. A few paces away from her, the werewolf jumped against the wall, grabbing a holt of the stones with his claws, another much taller werewolf shot from behind the building and took the earlier werewolf's position.

Amelia showed a mixture of a grin and grimace in return.

The Elder instantly raised her sword above her head and stepped forward whilst whirling around so she could add a greater force to her swing. The sleek werewolf tried to evade Amelia's silver plated blade but ironically it was the strong holt of his claws which made him that little bit too slow to evade the strike. Mercifully he never had the chance to feel any pain, Amelia sliced his head from his body in an instant. The Elder had no idea whether the werewolf's action had been some kind of demented pack-instinct which caused the weaker wolf to throw his life away to preserve the stronger's or whether the second werewolf simply used the opportunity granted by the earlier's death. The animal threw itself forward, one clawed hand already raised for a decapitating strike. Amelia instantly stepped backwards whilst removing one hand from the hilt of her sword and raised it protectively.

The Elder grunted painfully when she caught the claw upon her silver lined gauntlet. Her arm felt as if it was pounding and the black steel and silver had been dented, still they had served their purpose, she had caught the werewolf's attack and now smashed the pummel of her sword hard against her assailant's snout. Most other vampires would have been thrown away like a ragdoll, a few might have "escaped" the attack with a broken bone but Amelia was not like most of her kind. She was an Elder, whether it was strength, speed or the more esoteric gifts which had come with their rebirth as a vampire none except the other Elders could hope to match or surpass her and she knew it would be a long time before even the next generation could hope to do so as well. It had a reason why she had dared to travel the ruins with no more back-up than a single Death Dealer, no matter how promising she might have been.

The werewolf knew none of all that though, all it could realise was the searing pain of silver when Amelia drove her sword deep into the belly of the flinching animal.

A last pull and Amelia threw the dying animal behind her with the nonchalance of a human who had just dumped part of his burden.

"Form ranks!" Amelia called out to the Death Dealers who had been rallying behind. "Spears at the front, crossbows behind. We will break their charge."

And so they would. So far losses on both sides had been rather limited, despite her own efforts. The Werewolves seemed instinctively aware of the silver and cautioned by this, they made no attempt to withstand the blades and quarrels of the vampires once their initial attack failed. Fortunately this meant likewise that the threat of the leveled pikes and lances from the vampires sufficed to hold them off. However this little standoff couldn't continue forever, the werewolves were impatient and the vampires feared the light of the day.

Furthermore it wasn't as if the werewolves weren't trying to find a way around those leveled spears and Amelia disliked the odds of having her Death Dealers face them with the sword. So Amelia growled at the werewolves and remained at the frontlines of the battle. Killing Werewolves, but more importantly provoking the animals. As long as they kept their anger and attention fixed upon her, they weren't trying to find a way around her followers.

Amelia whirled away from another swipe from a Werewolf's, her century old reflexes instantly made her prepare to lunge in reply of the attack, but a motion spotted from the corner of her eye drew her attention and she threw herself sideways instead, making the silver lined back plate from her cuirass scrape against the primitive stone wall. The other Werewolf snapped his jaws shut with armour piercing force at a few feet from her, exactly at the spot where her arm had been a second ago.

Amelia felt a familiar wave of fear and excitement course through her veins at first, then she felt her canines elongate and the accompanying increase of her senses. The Werewolf stared into the bright gold eyes of the Elder for a single second, than a storm of steel, wood and silver tore through his coat.

Behind her, she heard the sound of reloading crossbows and slowly marching feet. she could not afford the distraction of looking behind her. still she could tell that the pole-arm bearing vampires were slowly moving forward. A few werewolves succeeded in slipping past the blade of the Elder, only to find four or more silver plated speartips aimed at them.

The werewolves growled angrily at their archenemies, still they realised that as it was they were helpless against the vampires who could attack them whilst keeping a safe distance from their fangs and claws.

Instead of throwing themselves upon the silver blades, the werewolves retreated slowly, continuously growling and snarling whilst exposing their bared fangs and claws to their opponents in an obvious effort to unnerve them. The vampires in the meanwhile kept following them, carefully keeping their ranks closed, well aware of what the consequences would be if even a single werewolf slipped past the tips of their spears.

Amelia in the meanwhile unleashed her own anger upon the Werewolves, the Elder Princess whirled around in the small space of the streets, dove past a claw, slipped underneath the scything slash of another Werewolf whilst simultaneously dragging her sword through the flesh of a hairy limb. The vampire wasted no time with actually killing them, instead she was content with merely wounding them, to slow them down and therefore turned them into an easy target for the spears and crossbows.

The tide of the battle had turned, no matter how minute it might have seemed. Still the Elder knew far better than believing the battle to be over.

Behind the Elder, Hera placed another quarrel in the slit of her stock before taking aim with an almost detached calmness. The vampire paused for a moment to admire Amelia's performance than she took aim at another werewolf who was trying to reach the vampires from atop the rooftops and walls.

The beast fell down after she struck his shoulder with a quarrel, a few feet away from her another Death Dealer gave her a quickly muttered compliment before pointing his own crossbow at another werewolf who had followed Hera's latest victim. Hera accepted his compliment with quick, almost distracted nod before reaching for another quarrel in her quiver.

Several yards away from her, above some of the roofs in the werewolf infested area Moka dove down and screeched loudly.

For a single moment, Hera lowered her weapon whilst paying attention to her first friend, the next her eyes gained a bright green hue which in later times would be described as radioactive.

"Get away from the wall, Amelia!" She yelled with a loud voice whilst raising her weapon.

It took a moment before Amelia reacted and jumped to her left, extending the distance between her and the wall.

For another moment nothing happened except that Amelia made a rather clumsy dive underneath the claw of the nearest Werewolf, a second moment involved the Elder scrambling up whilst attempting to gain some space with a wide swing of her sword.

The third second, the part of the wall to Amelia's right seemed to explode in a shrapnel of wood splinters and large rocks which peppered both Amelia and the nearby werewolves, followed by a massive figure who overcome by his own speed smashed into the nearby cluster of Werewolves.

The Elder Vampire instantly brought her sword down upon the Werewolf who laid on top, decapitating him with a single stroke of her sword.

However she lacked the time to take care of the others since already the first of many new Werewolves poured out of the hole in the wall. A silver tipped quarrel however stopped the Werewolf in his tracks, turning the snarling monster into a parapet of muscle, hide and bone which obstructed the hole.

Behind the line of pike bearers several Death Dealers were staring with the first traces of awe at Hera, who with a single-minded focus placed another quarrel in the slit from her weapon.

"Drive them back!" Amelia ordered whilst clenching both hands around the hilt of her sword before she charged forward, instantly followed by the pikemen.

The sudden charge caught the Werewolves unaware and another three were instantly cut down by Amelia and the Death Dealers, whilst a fourth escaped the onesided slaughter only by turning around.

A few Death Dealers armed with pikes took a stand behind the obstructed hole where they kept the remaining Werewolves on the other side at bay by poking their weapons into the gap.

The Werewolves howled and raged, some began climbing the walls in attempt to get around the line of vampires, but it was obvious that for all their savagery most of their rage was struggling with their dampened willingness to defy the silver in the hands of the vampires.

Still safely standing behind the lines of the pike armed Death Dealers, Hera noticed the remains of tall stone building which seemed to be swaying under the violence of the Werewolves. Perhaps it had been mill or an earlier part of the monastery's defences.

More importantly though, Hera noticed that it stood surrounded by the Werewolves.

The girl hesitated for another moment, then she jumped up and grabbed a hold from a higher wall. Her bat fluttered for a moment in the air, then Moka flew straight for her companion.

"Keep them away from me!" Hera yelled at some of the nearby marksmen, before she began running.

The distance was short, but so was the surface of walls which she could traverse. Even worse not only were some of those shaking due to the violence of werewolves who seemed intent on bringing the walls down with her, others were obstructed by Werewolves who defied the missiles from the Death Dealers whilst some of the more careful Werewolves simply jumped towards her, raking their claws over the surface of the walls.

Hera cursed her previously brilliant seeming inspiration.

Before her another Werewolf tumbled from the walls with several quarrels in his chest, a pike bearer quickly planted the tip from his weapon in the chest of the animal, finishing him off.

Hera knew she would be reliving this short trip in her nightmares for a long while, still she succeeded in reaching the tower.

There was a loud crack when the wooden floor gave in the moment she planted her boot upon them and it was only by throwing herself backwards and further bruising her already throbbing back that she could save herself from falling through the floor.

Hera pushed herself up again and this time taking care into remaining upon the stone edges of the tower she continued onwards to the ancient looking remains of a now mostly gone upper-level.

The teenager stomped a first boot upon the floor to test it sturdiness before stepping down from her stone perch.

A moment later she threw herself with all her strength and weight against the outer wall, but as ancient and weathered it had seemed, this one had obviously been meant to endure a lot more than the houses and stores which she had seen earlier.

Hera grunted angrily, rubbing her shoulder where the metal had been dented due to her impact, then she pushed again. Behind her Moka chirped a warning and the Death Dealer reached for her whip, tearing a bloody crevice into the Werewolf's skin who promptly loosened it hold of the edge of the wall and fell down again. Below her she heard the sound of disappointed howling before this turned into a renewed anger.

"Go down!" She ordered the wall whilst throwing herself against the stones. "Go down, Elders take you, go down!"

Another push, an even harder throbbing shoulder and slammed both her fist against the stones. She kept pushing, focusing upon her anger and fear to ignore her pain, hoping that these emotions would help her bring it down.

A white-hot anger coursed through her veins and she even pushed her still helmeted head against the wall as if this would tip the scale.

Then Hera heard a loud crack and for a moment she wondered whether she had succeeded or merely broken one of her bones. Then for the first time since she had reached the tower she actually felt the wall move. She gave a loud roar of elation in celebration of her victory and threw herself against the wall for the last time.

It was with the loud, rolling sound of an approaching thunderstorm that the wall fell.

First there were little more than a few smaller stones which had already been loosened at the top of the wall which fell down amidst the snarling canines. Some of the Werewolves looked up in surprise as if they couldn't believe what they had seen or heard earlier, then massive pieces of masonry fell down, each at least the seize of grown man's chest.

Werewolves were tough and powerful creatures even when compared to vampires, but even they died when half a ton of rubble fell upon their head and even the most powerful of creatures would be confused after being struck by smaller amount of stones.

Below them, still several paces away from the tower and therefore out of the range of the avalanche, Amelia stared up in obvious surprise. She blinked for a single moment in attempt to process the current reversal of fortune, but that was all she needed.

"Attack!" She called out to her Death Dealers, whilst pointing her sword with wide swing at their enemies. "Kill those dogs before they can recover!"

A loud cheer came in reply from behind her and the Death Dealers charged their now hapless opponents.

A few werewolves struggled to escape the rubble which had struck them down and each of them was ruthlessly piked down, others were to wounded to pick up the speed necessary to escape the anger of the vampires and they turned around to defend themselves and to attempt taking at least one last Death Dealer down. In a matter of moments these too were surrounded and shot or piked down, apart from a single exception where a particularly daring Death Dealer finished the werewolf off with a decapitating slash of his sword.

The rest made their way to the edges of the forest and disappeared.

Seven vampires had died that night, together with twenty-three werewolves.

There was little cheer in the ranks of the vampires when they finally reached the hideout.

* * *

"You should have been more careful." Amelia said, chiding Hera when the girl seated herself a few feet away from the Elder.

"I know." Hera admitted, whilst keeping her eyes glued to her dented spaulders, making an obvious effort not to look Amelia in the eyes.

Amelia stared at the girl with obvious annoyance, for a moment she contemplating airing some of the frustrations she had actually felt upon discovering the amount of narrow escapes the girl had made during the battle, then she dismissed that thought again. She could tell the girl wasn't feeling defiant.

Instead Amelia reached for Hera's now bared shoulder. Instantly Hera aimed her eyes at her other shoulder and raised her hand to start removing the other piece of kit as well.

Now actually feeling ignored. Amelia tightened the grip of her fingers upon Hera's bruised shoulder.

Hera raised her head up in an instant. The moment her eyes met Amelia's the Elder released her grip again, instead she carefully brushed her thumb against soothing the pain of Hera's sore flesh.

"I am not talking to the spirits of the stones, so don't look for someone else when I am talking." Amelia told her with a strict voice.

"You nearly died." Amelia reminded her and for a moment Hera seemed intent lashing out in reply.

"Under my eyes." Amelia continued whilst brushing her other thumb over the skin of Hera's jaw.

Hera seemed to force herself to swallow whatever it was that she at first had intended to reply.

"I...am...aware." She admitted, sounding rather abashed.

"At least she wasn't trying to minimise the risk of her actions." Amelia thought whilst she kept staring with a hard gaze at the youngest Death Dealer so far.

Then she sighed. If she was aware and taken aback enough, Amelia could forgive her the risks she had taken tonight. Perhaps that the experience would provide her with some wisdom that she lacked due to her lack of age, despite the girl's training.

"Take some rest, Hera." Amelia whispered whilst brushing her hand through the girl's hair. "You've earned that much."

Amelia wasn't going to compliment Hera for the risks she had taken, no matter how fortunate the outcome had been.

She felt a hint of her own regret when she saw Hera close her eyes, the disappointment of the girl about the lack of sweet talking obvious to someone who was as experienced in reading someone's emotions as herself.

"Perhaps it was not fair to her," she admitted to herself, "but it would be better to make certain that such individual risk taking was nipped in the bud from the start."

She sighed and leaned back against the wall, whilst brushing her fingers across her forearm. The skin underneath the black cloth was red due to the pressure and there were a few deep cuts which had further darkened the colour where the indents of the black steel had cut into her pale flesh.

Then she rested her wounded arm next to her legs and closed her eyes as if waiting for sleep.

In truth, she knew sleep wouldn't come rapidly.

For a few moments an image from a decade ago sprang to her mind: a young girl, barefooted and dressed in no more than a thin shirt who defied the First Werewolf with no more than a piece of wood in her little hands. Then she remembered Hera slamming her fists and shoulders into the walls of the tower until the stone gave in. She knew that no vampire her age, not even an Elder could have hoped to break those stones.

Yet somehow Hera had once again found a strength which defied what should have been possible.

She opened her eyes for a moment.

Her little fledgling kept intriguing her, no matter how many years went by.

Amelia's lips curled into a small smile at that thought, then that smile grew a bit broader.

Amelia had remembered where Hera had laid her own hands down, they had been upon her lap, not next to her. And if they had been accidentally moved whilst asleep, they wouldn't have wandered so far from the Death Dealer's body.

Amelia resisted the urge to chuckle.

She leaned back a bit deeper against the wall, but left her own hand where it was.

It was only a few moments later when she felt sleek fingers wrap themselves around her own fingers.

Even if Hera made a valiant effort to keep herself from opening her eyes, the young vampire couldn't help but smile.

Amelia let her, she didn't mind her fledgling holding her hand.

* * *

 **Mind leaving a review?**


	3. counsel and stories

**First off all a sincere thank you to everyone who reviewed, favourited, followed or read this story despite the long time between the updates... 2017 was tough. Something which unfortunately was reflected in the number of updates for both stories. I am still eying 2018 with wariness, but I won't go and say anything good about it until we're at least 2019 (and even then I will be looking up and down for a collapsing ceiling/ floor... or rather a lightning bolt or flood). However I will be saying that it was busy if nothing else (my banking account has finally stopped threatening me with a baseball-bat whenever I need money, chuckle). And thus...to celebrate a paired chapter from Bound by Blood. (remember to read the third chapter first before you start at the latest chapter).**

 **Lastly, a final thank you to the one person who now has been a beta for chapters of both my stories: Lord Protector Corvo Attano.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't either of the two series.**

* * *

"A plague upon those fools!" Marcus exclaimed angrily after he slammed his fists simultaneously down upon the table.

The First of the Vampires took a deep breath before he continued to air his wrath. "Ancestors know how many of those beasts have reinforced my brother's ranks throughout the years due to their race's stupidity?!"

Victor, who sat several feet from where the Elder stood, bended down to reach for one of the parchments which had been thrown from the table due to Marcus' onslaught.

"I thought we had them corralled." Marcus growled whilst Victor brushed one hand over the piece of parchment to remove some of the worst stains from the dust.

"You _hoped_ we had them corralled, Marcus." Victor corrected him with a calm voice as he emphasised the second word. "I have told you before that I doubted our noose would be strong enough to strangle them."

Marcus turned his head around with an angry expression upon his features.

"You sound as if you expected this." Marcus snarled accusing.

"Please regain a hold over yourself, Marcus!" Victor reminded him with a harsh, but mostly weary tone of voice. "You are behaving like a fool, which is something I am not accustomed to from you."

For a moment Marcus glared at the Elder with an anger which was obvious to even the youngest and most inexperienced of the gathered vampires, however that moment passed quickly and the ancient vampire sighed before he returned to his own chair, at the other side of the triangular table.

The Elder's eyes clearly expressed that his anger hadn't been diminished by Victor's words, but he had regained enough of his bearing to realise that he was indeed acting without his customary composure.

Victor nodded with some obvious approval at his fellow Elder before he returned his attention to Amelia who had been seated at the third side of the table.

"Please continue." Victor told her, whilst he made a gesturing motion which supported his words.

Amelia nodded in return and finished her tale of the battle in the remains of the monastery. The Elder Princess noticed how Victor's eyes lingered at the small Death Dealer whom she knew stood against the wall behind her.

"Twenty-three werewolves confirmed as killed." Victor concluded whilst he fixed his eyes upon the female Elder first and then upon the remaining members of Amelia's hunting party whom he gifted with a small, approving nod of his head. "And possibly several more who might have died in the aftermath."

"In every other way it would have been an excellent tally for a hunt," Amelia admitted before sighing, "if it weren't for the price we paid in return."

Victor sighed in return.

"A veritable tragedy, I agree." He suggested with a weary voice which contained a hint of understanding and empathy, although that impression faded away with his next words. "However, it was a necessary price for your discovery."

The Elder aimed a glance at the members of his own retinue who stood or sat behind him.

"What is your opinion, my dear?" He asked whilst he pointed his eyes at Ilona.

His wife waited for a few more moments, only then she decided to speak up.

"Personally, I disagree with Marcus' fear for the numbers with which the Magyar might have reinforced William's pack." Ilona started her explanation. "Humans are often blind for the consequences of their actions, greedy and impetuous, but even more importantly they're superstitious and cowardly when they're confronted with the darkness. Their fear of the night and the forests is no less instinctual to them than their reflex to remove a hand from a branch when they're stung by a thorn."

"Whilst I agree with Marcus in the regard that even a single werewolf, who is allowed to reinforce William's pack, is a tragedy for which we might pay in blood." She continued before her voice attained a far faster pace. "I do not believe the Magyar would travel through the forest continuously and in large numbers. The rumours of the Pack ought to withhold all but the most reckless and desperate of their kind."

Hera's adopted parent shook her head dismissively. "I doubt this was more than a single, reckless gamble from desperate men who mistook the threat of the Werewolves for a baseless superstition and who paid the prize for this act in full... especially since some of them did so twice."

Victor nodded slowly. "I think" He said, "that my wife's experience with humanity gives further credence to the wisdom of her words."

He took a small sip from the cup which had been placed in front of him. "I share her opinion." Victor added after returning the cup to it's place upon the table. "Marcus? Amelia?"

Marcus, whose expression had gradually cleared up during Ilona's explanation, nodded slowly. "I too find myself agreeing with her words." He admitted. "However, I wonder whether the Magyar would have realised the same wisdom?"

He pointed his gaze at the Elder's wife.

"We should not forget that our point of view is not the same as theirs. We lack their impetuousness or like she emphasised so pointedly, their possible desperation. Who knows what risks they are willing to disregard due to their lack of knowledge or in their despair?"

"Another excellent remark." Victor admitted with a surprisingly pleased voice. "Indeed, we should not mistake our own vision for theirs. It would be good to further extend our influence over them in more direct ways so we can keep ourselves from being surprised by attempts such as these."

"Perhaps." Amelia agreed warily, "But before we tighten our grip upon them, we should make certain that my Death Dealers' sacrifice did not become meaningless because we failed to make certain that the humans kept away from the forests."

"What are you suggesting?" Victor asked her upon a tone which hinted at his interest. "Your feelings are understandable but you seem to have an idea."

"Indeed," added Marcus with some hint of intrigue in his voice. "How would you keep the mortals away from our domains and the forests?"

"It is not so much a suggestion, as it is the concept of an idea." Amelia admitted whilst obviously carefully picking her words. "A further refinement of our earlier approach."

"Then please, enlighten us." Marcus requested of her in return.

"I suggest we remind the mortals why they fear the werewolves." Amelia said. "As vampires we should be feared but unlike William's brood, we are reasonable. We take our part and allow them to live their lives without troubling them overtly much. I would not hesitate to even say that we are their benevolent protectors since we have sacrificed so many immortal warriors over the years to keep William's disease corralled... and yet we ask so little of them in return."

Some of the warriors and nobles behind the three Elders smiled at her words, but none of them spoke up. Each of them was well aware that Amelia wasn't finished yet.

"The Werewolves will not be so kind. If they find their way to the human settlements, they will kill and maim everyone they find." Amelia continued. "And with that, they might turn everyone they find."

Amelia paused for a moment. "I suggest we rekindle their fear, remind them of the difference between the imagined spirits that are supposed to linger in the ruins and the actual monsters which are hidden by night and shadows." Amelia said whilst she utilised short and angry sounding snarls.

"If they are no longer able to image the fangs of the Wolves, we should paint them another picture with their own blood." She concluded with the same angry voice.

This time there was an obvious reaction amongst the entourage of the three Elders, but neither of the remaining progenitors of the Midnight Aristocracy seemed to pay attention to their companions.

"Are you suggesting that we allow the curse which was thrust upon my brother to spread?" Marcus asked her with a voice which sounded both shocked as well as angered.

Victor, on the other hand, cocked his head. "I do suspect you are suggesting a limited but controlled failure of our protection, are you not, Amelia?" the Elder-Warlord asked her in return.

"Indeed I do." The Elder princess replied with a cold harshness in her voice which was tempered by anger. "The Magyar's arrogance demands a reply which will be remembered for many years to come. They must be reminded to stay away from the forests!"

"Won't the disappearance from these raiders be enough to reinvigorate this fear?" Marcus asked the council in return, it was obvious to everyone that he wasn't likely to condone even a minor growth of the numbers of the Werewolves if he could help it.

After these words both younger members of the triumvirate shook their head.

"I doubt that," Victor told him in return. "If it is fear or desperation that drove raiders to travel through the forests, rather than merely arrogance or ignorance, than mere rumours won't keep others away."

"There exists even a chance that their disappearance might add to the numbers of the next wave of raiders who would travel through the forests." Ilona added with a calm voice.

She lowered her head for a moment and reached for her own cup which stood in front of her upon the table.

"A small chance, of course." She admitted whilst she offered the Eldest among them an apologetic nod. "But every season there are numerous stories doing the rounds about Magyar invasions and raids among the Slavs and Franks. There is no doubt that there would be plenty of Magyar lords who would utilise the rumours of pastures and already established settlements of their people to bolster their own retinue and reputation by sending their own men upon raids which would lead them to the edges of the forests or even beyond those.

Honestly, even if that risk was admittedly rather small, it remained a possibility and there was not a single vampire present who did not fear the consequences of such foolish actions by the mortals.

The Death Dealers had paid a high price throughout the years. As it was at that point in time, less than half of the original Death Dealers had survived the numerous battles with William's spawn. These had been no mere warriors though, these had been handpicked as mortals by the three Elders. Each of them had been an exemplary warrior or hunter in life, in death they had even further surpassed their previous skills.

And despite all their skills and talents, their numerous experiences and the memories which they had obtained in life and after their turning, they had died a second time.

Usually they fell in small numbers, one by one whittled away by the seemingly endless skirmishes over the years, but sometimes they had died in droves, massacred by the claws and fangs when a seemingly trivial mistake had been pounced upon by the creatures which they had arrogantly deemed prey. Decades of life and un-life which had been washed away by a fury that was often less than hours or even minutes old.

Each of the vampires knew that even a single werewolf could wreak bloody havoc among the mortals and with that act bring dozens or if given the time, even hundreds of new monsters into the fray.

A single mistake and it could invalidate years of bloodshed and all the fallen vampires throughout those years. After all, how else could it be that William had been capable of gathering such a pack which haunted the Hungarian lands?

Hera, like so many members of the current Death Dealers had missed the worst of the war against William, those early years of constant and desperate struggle before the Vampires had finally been able to establish their fortresses and hem the Werewolves in into the wilderness, far away from most concentrations of mortals.

It had taken the vampires years to clear those mortals away from the domains which had bordered to the forests of William's brood. Sometimes the mortals had left upon their own, rightfully terrified of the fur-coated madness which dwelled between the trees. At other times the vampires had forced them to leave or at the least relocated them to an area they deemed fit for the mortals, but sometimes human desperation and stubbornness forced the hand of the Undead. This left them no other choice but to cleanse the area with fire and steel. Not that any of them expected the mortals to share their opinion about the necessity of their actions.

When they considered the danger which was brought forth by the infractions of the mortals, none of the Elders could afford to show lenience towards these breaches of the unofficial border which was the edge of the forest.

What made the situation with the Magyar worse was that unlike the Franks, Greeks or Slavs these people lacked numerous, large fixed settlements and a properly established hierarchy. Most of their kind were still nomads like their ancestors who had come down from the steppes further to the east.

"I agree with Amelia's judgement that the Magyar need a culling, but I wonder whether it is possible without involving ourselves in a long war which would distract us from our true enemy." Victor said before the Elder pointed his gaze upon his wife.

"You know the Magyar at least as well as I do and I suspect you are better aware of their situation than I currently am." Victor asked his wife. "What is your opinion, my dear?"

Ilona closed her eyes and waited for nearly a minute to gather her thoughts.

"I agree with your judgement of the Magyar situation." Ilona said eventually. "As far as we are aware, there are no signs which hint at another invasion or a war. Their numbers are currently spread out and it will be impossible to place a strike which might shatter them if we opt for an open conflict."

"Simultaneously however, I must add that these circumstances are ideal for one or a few raids of our own." Ilona admitted before continuing with a quick glance upon Amelia. "It is my judgement that a raid has every chance of ending in a victory, however I doubt that it would succeed in its goal to remind them to fear the Werewolves without an actual appearance of William's spawn..." Ilona paused for another moment "Or," she continued. "What they believe to be a Werewolf."

"I am not certain." Marcus said. "We risk much upon a hunch and I fear a misjudgement might incite an attempt to retaliate from the mortals which will cause a massive increase in the number of beasts."

He bowed his head apologetic towards Ilona and then to Amelia.

"Although," He continued with a tired voice. "I admit that a failure to act might lead to the same result."

"My suggestion would be that we grant the Magyar an easier target away from the forests as a distraction, whilst we reinforce our position and spread more rumours." Marcus concluded.

Both Victor and Amelia stared at Marcus, not in disbelief or even disgust like some the younger and far more aggressive members of their entourage. Instead both Vampires smiled softly, with a hint of affection for the oldest of the Vampires.

In truth neither of the two was surprised by Marcus opinion, Marcus had always been the most cautious and hesitant of the three Elders. It had been for that reason that he had offered Victor and Amelia their chance upon eternity. Marcus had many virtues, generally he was a contemplative and intelligent man, although he pursued his goals with a single-mindedness that could baffle the others and there existed not so much as single soul whether mortal or not who had an actual reason to doubt his courage and skills with arms.

However it had to be said that the attack, which had turned William into the mindless beast his brother was now, had simultaneously turned the Vampire's earlier recklessness in an almost overbearing caution.

Still, it was as much a sign of respect for Marcus' age and power as it was for his intelligence that the remaining Elders only rarely made a decision without his insight.

Marcus was a steadying, calming influence whilst Victor's and Amelia's voice often preached aggression and action.

Unfortunately for him, in a society at war and caught adrift, such a voice is often disregarded or disdained by the younger and more ambitious minds.

Hera might not be counted amongst the most ambitious members of the Vampire race, but she was most certainly young and obviously desired to be noted.

"My lady," She whispered at Amelia "Why would we hide our own involvement with an attack from the werewolves if we can pretend to lead the strike?"

Amelia removed her attention from the discussion for a moment and raised a single eyebrow.

If another member of her entourage noticed Hera's faux-pas, they ignored it, like they had learned to generally ignore the amount of attention which Amelia gave the youngest member of her Death Dealers. Quite a few of these last would admit that her behaviour in the last hunt at least warranted some privileges, although some of the oldest and most experienced members would add that this was only because they doubted she would survive for much longer. To their eyes it seemed as if the young vampire was far too reckless and uncaring with her life and her privileges to thrive in their cutthroat-world.

"What are you suggesting, Hera?" Amelia asked with a hint of curiosity in her voice.

"Humans know nothing of us, nor about the war between the Descendants of Corvinus. All we are to them is damned, soulless beings." Hera rolled her eyes after that last remark, the young vampire made no attempt to hide her amusement at humanity's attempts to judge them. "However, why would they waste their time upon the dogs if they can attempt to reach for what they believe is their master's, unholy stronghold?"

"We focus their ire upon a target from our choosing, at a position which **we** can defend with ease but which they need to cleanse in the name of their God." Amelia guessed in return, showing a small smile for a moment whilst she remembered Marcus' earlier suggestion.

She turned her head directly at Hera, not that either of her fellow Elders noticed at the moment. Each of them was likewise in a direct conversation with some of their closest retainers, looking for the advice which might settle to the discussion.

If she was honest with herself, Amelia was far less interested in a direct conflict with the humans than what would be expected from a being who depended upon their blood to survive and prosper. Simultaneously however, a series of skirmishes and raids sounded rather appetising to her, even more so if it could keep the attention from the mortals away from the forests.

"How would you create such an impression upon the mortals?" Amelia asked with a hint of amusement.

Hera's expression which had been rather emotionless until earlier brightened up momentarily. This quick glimpse of happiness disappeared rapidly though and the teenager schooled her features again despite the small pull at the corner of her lips which remained lingering. It took barely a second before Amelia could see Moka descend from the roof timbers and nuzzle herself into the hollow of Hera's left arm as if she was small child or an actual pet. It did not take more than another second before one of Hera's fingers began to brush the bat's little head.

Amelia had no need for a bond with the bat to realise that Moka was very pleased with Hera's attention. And she had no idea whether she was fooling herself but the way the bat stared at her made it seem as if the little thing was perfectly aware of the fact that her latest ministrations were almost certainly the result of Hera's interaction with the Elder.

Hera took a deep breath before she opened her mouth.

"I would hope to create the majority of such an impression by employing the hunting hounds and the handlers which my mother has gathered over the years." Hera said with a seemingly calm voice. "Most of those animals are barely one step down from full wolves themselves."

Amelia smiled at that remark, Ilona had indeed gathered an impressive pack of these animals over the years. These hounds or, as Hera had implied tamed wolves were even bigger, stronger and fiercer than actual wolves out in the wild. Still, the vampire had never used them for anything more dangerous than a hunt for boars, a bear and the occasional deserter or brigand in the lands closer to human society.

Furthermore she suspected that apart from an Elder, Ilona's daughter would have been the only vampire who would have even dared to contemplate Victor's wife lending the beasts for a raid.

However like Ilona had remarked earlier, Amelia was not too certain whether a success could be gained without the appearance of actual werewolves. At least some of the humans would have experience with ordinary wolves and she suspected that an assault of vampires accompanied by these animals would be far more likely to be mistaken for an attack from a group of bored, noble hunters then a raid from vampires and werewolves.

Amelia hid her urge to sigh, after all whilst too simple the suggestion had been far from poor. So she waited until Hera suggested Amelia's earlier idea out loud.

She was already looking for the words with which she could let the girl gently down when Hera actually continued.

"Furthermore we need to let them believe we can control the werewolves, turn ourselves into the uncontested, unholy rulers of the night and all its creatures like some of them already do." Hera said.

At this Amelia blinked once, twice and then a third time.

Now she actually did sigh openly and in Hera's defence, the girl did look rather sheepishly as she was obviously aware that she had sounded as if her vanity had finally gained the overhand in its eternal struggle with the girl's own sanity. Unfortunately having a fledgling vampire throw her own humility straight out of the rather metaphorical window and leaving it to burn in the far less metaphorical daylight was hardly an unusual thing. Still, as entertaining as it often was, Amelia did not like the idea of doing so to Hera.

Whilst the option of shooting Hera's idea down gently was most likely keeping said girl's humility company at the other side of the walls, she felt unsurprisingly grateful that no other members of her retinue seemed to have heard that sentence as well.

The Elder deciding to pick the short pain

"How would you do so?" Amelia asked her with a soft voice which was remarkably devoid of incredulity. "There exist no way in which a werewolf can be tamed or trained to fight for us, nor can we turn into mist."

Hera paused for a moment and Amelia noticed Moka climb up Hera's arm until she took her customary position upon the younger vampire's shoulder.

Hera took a deep breath.

"There is no reason for us to do so." She said. "All we need to do is make them believe we can."

The girl took another deep intake of breath before she continued. "Mother always told me that more than anything else, humans are afraid and so very willing to believe those fears."

"They believe us capable of turning into bats or able of bringing the death back under our thrall ..." Hera whispered with some obvious scorn in her voice, then her lips curled into a denigrating smile.

"Or," She continued, "capable of turning into wolves with the seize of a grown man."

Amelia gave a snort in return but showed no other sign of seeing any humour at all in this particular bit of superstition of humanity.

Hera's smile faded a bit in return.

"Letting men believe we can control werewolves ought to be easy." Hera muttered with some denigration of her own in her voice. "Let them see a few dogs and wolves during a full moon whilst they're accompanied by a few hunt masters who disguised themselves with the pelts of William's spawn and every human will believe what we want them to believe."

"Perhaps?" Amelia admitted rather grudgingly. "But a trick which falls short is more likely to harvest distaste and scorn than admiration for the ingenuity of the thoughts. How would either the success or the failure serve us?" She asked Hera in return.

"Humans fear what they don't know, desire the strength they don't have and always look for new ways to bring ruin to those whom are different from themselves."

"I still don't see how that particular plan of yours would serve our goal?" Amelia told her.

Hera paused momentarily and reached upwards to brush a few hairs out of her face, an act which momentarily hid her own eyes.

"When I was younger," Hera whispered softly with a rueful smile, "mother told me stories."

"These fairy tales spoke about heroes, villains, monsters and gods, but more importantly for this case they contained treasures and power." Hera continued whilst her eyes seemed to wander off into this past.

"She told me about Jason and the gilded fleece, Odysseus and Diomede who snuck into Troy to steal the Palladion, Bran's cauldron of rebirth and many, many others." Hera said whilst she retained this almost dreamy expression.

Amelia waited for Hera to make her actual point.

"At least some of the humans will know those tales as well." Hera claimed.

"If we make them believe they can take such treasures and their connected power..." She continued whilst drawing the last letters of her sentence out, "they will only see what we want them to see."

"Treasure and power," Amelia repeated as if she was contemplating the possibility, "such as... relics, lost souls and entire armies of werewolves at their command?"

Amelia laughed mockingly at her mention of the last and Hera lowered her eyes slightly in return.

However there was some actual approval in Amelia's gaze when she looked into Hera's eyes.

It was a fanciful idea which the younger vampire had proposed but despite some of the more outrageous elements it was far from ridiculous. She herself remembered the arrogance and occasional blindness from her fellow nobles well enough.

It was not that difficult to imagine a few of them, accompanied by the picked men of their war band, setting out to find a relict... and all the supernatural rewards it might bring.

Slowly her lips curled into a cruel smirk.

"Yes," Amelia thought, appreciating the cruel irony of Hera's original suggestion, "that might work very well."

"I will contemplate this...concept." The Elder vampire told her with a calm, almost neutral expression. "I suggest you ponder about the necessary refinements to turn it into a proper suggestion which I can mention to the others at my earliest convenience.

She shot the younger vampire a far kinder smile than her earlier expression and then signified the end of this particular confrontation with a nod of her head and turned her eyes away from Hera.

As she detected the intent of another member of her retinue, the Elder-Princess turned her head towards said warrior and listened to his suggestions.

Eventually after overhearing the suggestions from a few more warriors, hunters and councillors, she fixed her eyes upon the remaining Elders.

"I think we all agree about the need to move the mortal's attention away from the forest." Amelia told her colleagues.

"And Marcus' suggestion seems wise to me," she continued whilst nodding at said Elder, "I do feel that the option of giving them a more easily reachable target to vend their wrath upon would be the best course."

"I see." Victor replied with a thoughtful expression upon his features, Ilona on the other hand had her own gaze firmly fixed upon her adopted daughter.

Amelia waited seemingly unperturbed. It was obvious that the woman was curious about whatever her daughter had dared to suggest in her first official attendance to a council and Amelia did not blame her, there was only that much of favouritism that would be allowed in their world before one became a target for the other, less reliable or forgiving members from a retinue.

Still, Amelia had made it a point to wait a bit longer and to hear other, more experienced members out first rather than to act upon Hera's suggestion. However she was aware that she would be forced to intervene and to impress Hera with the need for some subtlety in her interactions with her and the other higher ranking members of the Coven soon. That was most definitely not a conversation to which she was looking forward too.

As thus she took a deep breath to calm herself.

Despite all the efforts she had made to retain a hold over herself throughout the meeting, it was quite obvious to all that Marcus was not the only one who felt frustrated by the actions of the mortals. Or in her particular case, the consequences of these actions.

A vampire's blood might flow into their veins without the warmth of the red liquid when it was forced onwards by a human heart, but despite this quality, vampires were not bereft of passion... or anger. Amelia had lost too many good Death Dealers in that battle and she wanted to be done with its consequences, damn it all.

It was Marcus who spoke up first. "What seems more feasible?" He asked. "Will we direct the Magyars directly against the Franks, or will we give them a target of our own?"

Victor frowned for a moment. "As much as I would prefer to steer them away from our own fortresses and hideouts, I fear that we lose some control over the conflict if we take that course."

The Elder slowly turned his gaze from Marcus, to Amelia and Hera before he settled his eyes upon Ilona.

Ilona whispered a few words at the warlord in return, which resulted in a slow nod but whatever it was that Ilona had said, the Elder refrained from sharing it directly with the others.

"We need a place which gives us an easy access to the Magyar pastures," Victor continued, "but simultaneously this position must be easily defendable and inaccessible to sunlight."

Neither of the remaining Elders said anything in return. Both of them knew Victor well enough to realise that warlord had brought this particular subject up because he was aware of at least one of such places.

Victor gave a single nod at his retinue and a mere moment later some of the youngest members began to race towards one of the chests in the corner of the room.

A few other members likewise walked in the direction of the wall at the back of Victor's party and started wrestling with one of the massive pieces of tapestry which had covered about a third from his side of the room.

The vampires worked swiftly and removed the carpet in what seemed like a quick, fluent motions without so much as a single grunt of effort.

This action revealed a wooden framework which had been pushed against the actual stone wall.

The thin lattices were old and scarred by the numerous nails which had been forced into the wood before getting removed again.

As if to contrast with the framework, the chest contained a large amount of parchments of which the smooth, white skin seemed to shine. Each of the individual pieces of parchment was beset with seemingly inane lines and occasionally words in black ink.

Like most of the older vampires, Amelia noticed the seeming reverence with which the younger vampires treated the pieces of parchments.

They were wondrous pieces of skill and art, the result of numerous hours during which scholars had toiled upon ancient and possibly unique tomes and scrolls, as well as the labour of equally devoted artisans and architects out in the field.

It had taken them decades, almost half a century even, but in the end the vampire coven had crafted the first and so far only map which provided a detailed and correct oversight of the Carpathian Mountains and the surrounding lands.

Still, Amelia doubted the younger vampires were marvelling at the map itself or the amount of work which had gone in its development and the continuous updates. She was aware of the existence of a rumour which implied that each of these parchments was crafted from human hide.

It was a rather interesting notion which she had never wanted to deny nor confirm. It wasn't true of course, why bother with such an act when lambs could provide them with far better skins? However, it was often far more amusing to the older vampires to note the reactions of the younger members of an Elder's retinue or if the reactions failed to provide them with entertainment, it provided them with an insight in the actual nature of said follower. Amelia still could recall Soren's fascination with the maps after he heard that particular rumour.

However, there were actual parchments which had been crafted from human skin, as well as tomes which had been covered with these. Each of these had been fabricated during the earliest years of their Coven, in those half-repressed times during which legends and fairy tales still had been closely interwoven with actual research about their own nature. Nowadays these silent remains of the past were as much being hidden out of the desire to shape their history in accordance to their own desires and needs, as it was out of actual embarrassment over the mistakes and superstition.

Or in case of one particular tome which had been handed down from Alexander Corvinus himself, to hide the actual origin from both William's as Marcus's blessing as well as the flaws which had revealed themselves over the time. As far as Amelia knew, there were only two vampires who had ever dared to open this tome and whatever it had told Victor about his new nature, it had frightened him to the point that he refused to draw his sword against Marcus or dared to actually kill William. All she knew for certain was that ever since that day, Victor held the staunch belief that Marcus's death would be the end of them all.

Victor paused for a few moments whilst he allowed the gathering of vampires to marvel at the map. It did not take long before every sound, whether a whisper or shuffling had died down.

"The first and foremost place I would suggest to offer up as bait to the Magyar is Ezüst Terem." Victor began with a calm, confident voice. "This is the area of a silver mine which was last in use during the early days of the Roman conquest."

The Elder paused for a moment to point at one of the outliers of the Carpathian Mountains to the north of their own fortress.

"Whilst the halls of the main-mine were once rife with silver, most of these are now empty and have been abandoned for over half a millennium." Victor paused for a moment. "I suspect that there is still some silver remaining at greater depts. However, their current inaccessibility makes these riches of lesser importance to us."

Victor grinned for a moment. "Or at least the natural reluctance of the werewolves to approach the area implies that there is still a large amount of silver present."

"More crucial for our goal is that the region is both isolated from most werewolf-infested forests as well as the mortals." Victor added as in an explanation for his choice.

"The land itself is rife with cliffs, hills and rocks which makes it too poor to sustain more than a handful of hunters." Victor continued. "Despite that, there are several streams and smaller lakes, as well a number of meadows which would be sufficient to slake the thirst and hunger from several hundred horses for a while."

Amelia narrowed her eyes due to the way Victor had phrased that explanation. It was very clear to her that Victor was presenting the area as suitable for a quick raid on a massive scale.

"Where would you place our bait?" Amelia asked him with a desire for a blunt and direct answer.

Victor paused for a moment and once again the warlord waited until every eye had been turned towards him.

"Next to the mine are still some ruins of the Roman and Dacian mining villages present. These would provide us with the raw materials for the actual fortress." Victor revealed to her. "The mine's main-entrance is aimed in the direction of the north whilst the mountains and hills shield the entrance and her surroundings from direct sunlight."

Victor paused for another moment than he spoke up with a voice which was as harsh as the rocks from which the walls of their fortress had been hewn and which sounded no less old.

"I offer my own men for this task. They will barricade the mine and the surface-area near it where they will turn broken rubble and ruins into a fortress. Once the Magyar come and if poked they will come, tempted by anger, the desire for revenge and the rumours of the silver in mine, my warriors will fight and hold them at bay."

"The lay of the land makes it difficult to detect an attack from a swift moving force like the Magyars and there will be no chance for more than the briefest warning before their horsemen reach the entrance during daylight."

At this point there was not a single member of the Vampires who did not recognise Victor's emotions. Despite the reluctance he had proclaimed earlier about an open conflict, the Elder was now obviously relishing in the prospect of open war and battle.

Amelia was far from surprised. In the days during which Victor had been alive, the man had been an infamous warlord, who had even dared to aim for a kingdom of his own. The prospect of a war, even if it was against mere humans, rather than the endless hunts and skirmishes against werewolves, was an attractive one for him.

It was equally obvious that a mere victory, the result of a vampire's superior physiology would not do for the Elder. The man wanted a challenge, something which he could recall for the coming centuries with pride and he was setting such test up.

Amelia took a deep intake of breath, after her earlier behaviour with Hera, her own outburst and the losses she had suffered, she knew she had to put some emphasis upon her own authority to suppress some of the emerging complains from her followers.

"I would be happy to trust you and the warriors of your pick with that task." Amelia said before she fixed Marcus with a single glance which made it clear that she expected him to speak up as well.

Marcus stared at Victor for a moment, then the deceptively young looking vampire nodded as well.

"Honestly," He admitted without so much as a hint of resentment. "whether it is a war or a hunt, I can't imagine a finer warrior for the task."

Victor smiled for a moment; the Elder was obviously pleased with Marcus words and Amelia's support.

"However, I can't help but feel that your presence makes it not unlike trying to crush a rat with an anvil." Marcus continued with a rather tired sounding voice. However a single soothing motion of his hand made clear that this last remark was not intended as a slight.

"The forests will be cleared, one by one if necessary, but William will be found, Marcus." Victor replied with a hint of anger to his first words before he softened his tone again and adopted a far more weary voice. "Even if it takes an eternity but this pestilence will be contained."

"But that final hunt is still far off." Amelia supplemented with a calm tone.

Both remaining Elders nodded once again at her words.

"Once we can return our full attention to the Werewolves," Amelia continued, "I, like Victor, will continue to lead my hunters in pursuit of your brother and his creatures, however before that happens I desire to see my fallen hunters avenged."

"I have something in mind for the humans and I want your agreement that it will be my horsemen who are allowed to sting the humans into action and lure them to the site of your new fortress!" Amelia added as she began her sentence with a smooth voice but by the end of her demand it was obvious that anything short from a drawn sword would fail to keep her from organising the raid herself.

Marcus stared at her for a moment before he sighed. The Eldest Vampire was obviously far from eager about letting another Elder devote her attentions to the humans. Still, the remaining Elder knew just as well as she did that there would be little she could hope to accomplish against William and a veritable pack without the support from Victor and his own Death Dealers.

"Truthfully," He said, "I dislike seeing both remaining Elders remove themselves so far from me and each other."

Victor on the other hand exchanged a single look with Amelia before a cunning smile appeared upon his features. The way he stared at her retinue made it apparent that he had seen through her excuse of desiring revenge though.

It wasn't as if she wasn't eager for revenge, but far more importantly, her vampires would now be far too invested in the opportunity to indulge in their own thirst for human blood to question Amelia's actions.

Such a prospect would make even the most rambunctious of them behave for a while out of fear of being excepted from the reward.

"Still, I find myself rather curious." Victor whispered. "I am intrigued about what you have in mind to distract the humans from the werewolves in the forests."

Amelia sniggered for a moment. "It is fairly entertaining and I will enjoy explaining every part of it to you," she said, "once I have made certain every aspect of it is feasible."

"Rest assured though, that once I am done, there will not be single Magyar who'll be entering the forests with thoughts about revenge against Werewolves." She concluded.

Another vampire would not have gotten away with such a boast and Amelia could see both Victor and Marcus narrowing their eyes after her remark. However both Elders turned these little signs of irritation into a loud laugh after mere moments. This was something in which they soon were joined by Amelia.

The remaining vampires who had stared at the three for a moment relaxed instantly.

Amelia's remark could have easily taken the wrong way by either of the two, but by laughing each of the three had instantly strengthened his or her own position in the eyes of their followers.

Simultaneously however, the short hesitation had made it equally obvious that this amount of respect was not something that they would grant most other vampires.

* * *

Amelia sighed, the Elder vampire still felt far pleased, least of all by her earlier behaviour.

Furthermore she was tired, although she had made certain to indulge herself with a flask of blood which had staved off the worst of the consequences of her lack of sleep.

On the outside of the walls, the castle was bathing in the warm light of the afternoon sun. Still, even at this hour there were always people walking around. Most of these were vampires of the youngest generation, the lowest of guards and servants, although these souls were still trusted enough to be allowed to walk among their own kind when they were at their most vulnerable. The small number of human oddballs and outcasts which protected the outer walls throughout the day on the other hand would not even be allowed to see the sun disappear again if they dared to set so much as a single foot in the actual castle at this time.

Amelia had spent most of these hours with reversing some of the damage which the werewolves and she herself had wrought upon her retinue.

She had talked with the remaining members of her household, accepted requests, asked for advice and occasionally she had even pretended to take it.

Whereas there had remained some minor discontent about her rather obvious favouritism of Hera and the death toll of their previous hunt, most of them were too absorbed by dreams about the raid which she would be initiating and the promise of human blood which it brought.

Still, Amelia knew she had allowed Hera to dance at the edge of the ravine for too long.

Even as tired as she was, she knew that creating some distance between her and Hera would be the easiest and safest course of action. There were two major roadblocks upon that path though.

The first and foremost was Hera herself. Amelia had known the girl from the first day of her immortal existence. She knew the girl was far too impulsive to follow such a prudent, predictable road. As she had shown so aptly during the ambush, Hera was almost certain to take risks or to go against the grain in her desire to actually earn the honour and attention which she had already inherited due to her adopted mother's rank.

This characteristic wasn't exactly diminished by the fact that Hera was rightfully aware of the differences between her own lineage and the one of most other vampires. As far as Amelia knew, Ilona had done an excellent job to prepare Hera for the evolution of her traditional vampyric traits.

Furthermore, Hera knew of the mysteries which had accompanied her discovery, she remembered most of it anyway. Lastly she was utterly besotted with the most obvious of these differences between her and them, although Amelia admitted that Moka hadn't given her a reason to not be adored by the girl.

What Amelia wasn't certain of, was how well Ilona had been capable of preparing Hera for the less obvious differences between the young vampire and the rest of their species. Because for all her better traits, Amelia doubted that Ilona had the imagination to understand exactly how many mysteries surrounded Hera and how the number of her daughter's seemingly coincidental successes hinted at something beyond their own nature.

Hera on the other hand, was perfectly able of using her imagination to dance around the pattern of her mother's thoughts. The girl was far more similar to herself and possibly Marcus in that way, rather than Ilona or Victor. Amelia had learned years ago that the girl often came up with things which in Hera's own mind made perfectly sense and if properly explained could even seem to do so for others as well. However making sense was not always synonymous with feasible or even better.

And it was exactly that shared trait that made Amelia so averse of dismissing Hera's ideas or her company out of hand, even if it often seemed the most obvious course.

Furthermore Amelia had to admit that generally she simply enjoyed Hera's ideas and nature too much. Hera often offered a viewpoint that was differed from anyone else's. Sometimes this was so complicated that Amelia doubted even Hera could unravel every string of the skein, but at other times it presented her with a simplicity which seemed almost animalistic in nature, as if Moka and not Hera had come up with the thought.

Amelia liked this particular impression greatly, it reminded her of her own struggle with her vampyric nature.

It did not bolster her resistance against the younger vampire that Hera's youthful enthusiasm was far more infectious than her own far more jaded thoughts.

Amelia was unaware of the scowl which had appeared due to the thoughts about their vampyric nature. The Elder vampire liked to believe she was a good ruler. Her age had given her experience and wisdom where her initial schooling and intelligence would have failed her. Amelia's fear of her own thirst for blood had made her hesitant to give in to the urge to kill without regard and had her develop a strict moral code which was far more stringent than the one she had possessed during her life. Finally the longevity of her vampyric existence had taught her to appreciate the bond with her attendants.

However despite these traits, she was still the aristocratic huntress who had attracted Marcus' attention when he had been looking for the strength to stop his brother. As such despite her attainment of a code, the flaws which she had acquired throughout her life as a human noble had not exactly been diminished throughout the years after her blood lost it's warmth.

Amelia herself cared far less for power than Victor did. What she wanted was to feel alive, again and again. To feel the thrill of the chase, the triumphant feeling of knowing to have outsmarted her prey or opponents and to enjoy the sweet taste of victory, whether it was merely by quenching the thirst of her blade or by tasting the crimson ichor herself.

For all her nobility, whether it was real or imagined, it were these baser characteristics which made it impossible for her to create a distance between her and Hera. As a noble she had always been a greedy and proud woman. Giving up on Hera would be a defeat at first and foremost and her own pride refused to accept such when it came to Hera, at least not again and most certainly not after spending so much time living towards the moment she would finally acquire the girl's constant companionship.

The Elder vampire shook her head and walked on towards her own quarters whilst she tried to move her thoughts away from the youngest member of her retinue.

If she remembered correctly, some of Marcus' researchers had made an attempt to train werewolves and to turn them into hunting dogs which would help them into the war against their kind. Unsurprisingly, this harebrained experiment had failed almost instantly and only a few of the involved researchers had succeeded in surviving the bloody outcome. However, it had taught them a lot about the cunning of werewolves and how they reacted upon captivity.

Amelia suspected that a rereading of their observations would help her a lot, if she indeed would end up utilising Hera's suggestion to present the mortals with the illusion of an united front from the Children of Corvinus under their leadership.

However these thoughts were rudely interrupted when she noticed the small number of Death Dealers in the corridor which bordered to the hall in front of her own room.

She recognised one of them instantly; it was Soren, Victor's so-called Pitbull. Usually, she would have ignored his presence and the presence of his underlings. This night was not an usual night though, Amelia was far too angry and there had been far more infractions upon her influence than usual. She was not going to give any of the less reliable nobles from her retinue an excuse to leave her due to an inadequate protection.

The Death Dealer blinked for a moment when he noticed the Elder suddenly changing her direction and stomping straight at them whilst she sported an expression of cold anger upon her face.

Each of the five instinctively flinched backwards when Amelia drew closer; even Soren did so, despite his own age which signified him as one of the oldest surviving Death Dealers.

"What are you doing here, Soren?" Amelia snarled at him.

Then the Elder noticed one of the vampires behind Soren quickly rap the knuckles from his hand against the wood of the door, which made Amelia further narrow her eyes in suspicion.

In the meanwhile Soren took a deep breath and raised his hands in a submitting gesture whilst he took an obvious care to keep those same hands far away from the pair of silver studded whips which he had wrapped around his shoulders and upper arms.

Likewise the other vampires made certain not to make any hostile overturns, each of them knew very well that even without any bodyguards an Elder like Amelia could end the lives of even experienced Death Dealers in less time than they would require to beg for forgiveness.

However whatever they were going to say, it was preceded by the obviously frustrated outcry from a female voice which came from behind the nearest door. Amelia recognised that voice instantly and exposed her teeth with a snarl whilst her eyes attained a bright yellow colour.

Soren had a single second to recognise the danger he was in, the other Death Dealers either stood out of her way or had at least one extra moment. With their nerves as tense as the string of one of the composite bows of the Magyar, each of them obeyed his own flight-instinct instantly and found him- or herself capable of moving their body out the Elder's path. Soren however was literally forced to throw himself out of her way.

"My lady!" He yelled out.

Behind him the door was slowly opened in return to his outcry.

"What is it, Soren?" Ilona asked him with a particularly cold voice whilst she seemed to ignore the Elder vampire for the moment.

It was only after another moment that Ilona fixed her eyes upon Amelia.

The expression of Victor's wife was flat and calm, just like her voice when she decided to reply to the Elder.

"I see you bumped into my guards." Ilona told her.

"I was unaware they came as your escort." Amelia replied whilst she adopted a similar tone. "If I had known it was just a mother visiting her daughter, I would have reacted calmer. As it was, I feared one of your husband's lesser lords was trying to intimidate a member of my retinue."

"I see." Ilona whispered, but despite the obvious politeness of her tone, it lacked even the slightest hint of humility. Nor did it indicate a possibility of Ilona sending the guards away again.

For a moment Amelia hesitated, than her own pang of annoyance was strong enough to overpower her caution.

The Elder moved slowly almost lazily towards Ilona who still obstructed the door and she fixed her yellow eyes upon Ilona's blue eyes.

"I have a need for words with your daughter as well." Amelia told her upon an almost casual tone before she leant a shoulder against the wall next to the door.

"I do hope, your conversation won't take too..." Amelia started upon a similar sounding tone, however there was a noticeable edge to her voice when she finished her sentence. "...long."

This time Ilona's eyes did show some obvious irritation. Even if Amelia had worded it somewhat like a request, there is only a very small difference between a request which you can't ignore and a direct command.

And Ilona was well aware that there was little she could do to counter Amelia's request except by escalating the matters.

Ilona stared at Amelia with a cold expression. "It won't take long." She agreed.

"There is no need for it to take long." Hera supplemented when she appeared from behind her mother, although it was rather obvious that the girl had been listening attentively from the start.

"I see your point, mother." Hera continued, but every metaphorical syllable of her body language implied that she was loathing said point.

"I doubt there is anything you would need to add." Hera added with a poorly hidden annoyance in her voice.

"I honestly don't think you do." Ilona replied with a calm expression before she rested her eyes upon Amelia.

Hera grinded her teeth together with an audibly crunch in return. "I know I do." She told her mother.

Amelia couldn't help it, she felt a small tug at the corner of her lips due to Hera's obvious annoyance.

"Whatever this conflict is about..." Amelia told the pair whilst positioning herself next to Hera. "this is neither the time nor the place to continue this argument."

She allowed her lips to curl into a small smile whilst the Elder placed a hand upon Hera's shoulder.

Amelia pointed her eyes first upon Ilona and then she moved them to the corner of the hallway. It was a rather obvious sign that this conversation between them was over.

Ilona nodded although her expression made it equally obvious that the conversation was far from over for her.

Still the vampire made an annoyed gesture with her hand and then pointed it in the direction which Amelia had indicated. Near her, each of Victor's guards released the breath they had held in throughout the conversation.

Hera instantly whirled around and retreated into her own chamber whilst Amelia followed her in and closed the door behind her.

* * *

The younger vampire pointedly instantly at the bed before she slumped down upon the sheets. Hera's room was another indication of the high rank which she had received as Ilona's daughter.

Unlike the majority of the younger vampires who were forced to share a room with at least one more vampire, Hera had a pair of connected chambers to herself and her main room wasn't a small place either.

Furthermore there were numerous adornments which upon their own would have made her the envy of most other vampires around her age. Several large animal-skins served her as a carpet which protected her from the cold floors whilst other, far finer pelts and silks were draped from the ceiling and covered almost every inch of wall that wasn't hidden by the furniture.

Most of the surface of the walls however was hidden behind large closets, cupboards and racks which contained a multitude of objects. The greatest of these closets was reserved for the numerous clothes which she was expected to wear at the equally numerous occasions during which her attendance was requested as either Ilona's daughter or as of recently Amelia's Death Dealer.

A much smaller rack stood against the smallest of the walls and contained the pieces of weaponry and armour which she had acquired throughout her most recent years and which she had discarded for the day. However far larger than this last piece of furniture was the wooden framework which was littered with numerous scrolls, pieces of parchments, books and painted plates.

This thirst after knowledge was yet another privilege which had been granted to her as Ilona's daughter and Amelia was quite certain that the woman had never been anything except for encouraging to the girl in this last regard. Then again, such a thirst for knowledge or a fascination with the past and the world, was hardly exceptional amongst the vampires. For all it's cruelty, the long hours of the day had given most of them a great interest in a vast number of subjects and each of them tended to acquire numerous past times to occupy the empty hours of daylight when sleep wouldn't come.

Another difference between Hera's room and the ones which belonged to the majority of the other vampires was the position of Hera's bed. This had been shoved into the corner of her room and Amelia knew her well enough to know that it wasn't coincidence that at least one of her quarterstaffs had been so positioned to remain within the reach of her hand. Her bed itself was canopied, but the open curtains showed the slope in the pile of linens and pillows which revealed that, like in the past, Hera still tended to sleep upon her side with her back against the wall.

At this moment though, Hera showed no sign from needing or desiring either sleep nor the presence from the staff.

"I hope you don't mind my intervention." Amelia told Hera whilst the Elder seated herself upon the indicated spot upon the bed. "But I did not think you were that pleased with your mother's visit."

Hera showed a bitter smile in return.

"She's just overreacting." Hera muttered rather annoyed.

Amelia smiled softly whilst she placed a single hand upon Hera's shoulder. "She's worried about you." She admitted despite her own annoyance with Victor's wife. "Like every decent mother should be."

Hera opened her mouth to protest but Amelia silenced her by placing her hand over Hera's lips.

Amelia sighed, she found it far easier to appreciate Ilona's worries and annoyances when the woman kept out of her sight.

"So am I, if I am honest." Amelia continued whilst she kept her hand in place.

Then she paused momentarily and smiled at the younger vampire. "I am going to lower my hand, but please don't interrupt me."

"You take far too many risks, Hera." Amelia whispered. "And I am not just referring to your behaviour during the battle."

This made Hera tilt her head in return.

"I like being with you." Amelia admitted to the far younger girl. "I always did ever since I promised you I would be your friend and made you my own fledgling."

Hera closed her eyes, took a deep breath and carefully nudged her head against Amelia's whilst said vampire kept talking.

"There were few days when I was more pleased then that day when I saw you stand there with that circlet upon your head."

Amelia smiled whilst she felt Hera's hand crawl over her leg. She had to repress a chuckle when the girl entwined her own fingers with hers.

"I remember one." Hera whispered in return whilst she hid the features from her face by pressing her cheek against Amelia's shoulder.

"I asked you whether you would become my mother." She whispered whilst hiding her blush. "And when you denied that and promised me your friendship instead, you told me that friends one day could hope to be closer than even blood-kin."

Amelia felt her smile broaden when she heard Hera paraphrasing her words from that day.

Hera took another deep breath and it seemed as if she was about to say something but then she changed her mind and simply kept her head resting upon Amelia's shoulder.

"You really should learn to be more careful." Amelia repeated. "At least until you have the power and influence to survive the consequences of your actions."

"I might not always be there to save you from dangers, Hera." Amelia told her. "Neither will Ilona no matter how much the two of us might wish we can."

She felt Hera raise her from her shoulder and understood that the girl was about to protest.

"Don't." Amelia interjected. "I am not talking about the battle, I gave you the reproach you've earned for your recklessness that very same night, I won't repeat it now."

The bite of Amelia's rebuke was lost due to the fingers which she carefully dragged through Hera's hair.

"What I am talking about... is your behaviour outside of it, like your suggestion at the meeting." Amelia clarified which made Hera tilt her head with some curiosity which was obvious, if anything she looked more confused or surprised than actually angered.

"Do you have any idea how many members of an Elder's retinue have been allowed to accompany them to such a meeting within the first months of their service? Can you imagine how few of them have been allowed to make suggestions, let alone that they had them acknowledged?"

Amelia sighed and showed her a sad smile. "I know of quite a few members of my retinue whom I have trusted with my own life for over a decade but who even now wouldn't have dared to speak directly to me during the counsel."

"Can you imagine how arrogant you seemed from the moment you joined my Death Dealers?" Amelia asked her, although this time the majority of her earlier sadness seemed to have been replaced by a twinge of amusement.

"I don't want to pretend you're a stranger, Amelia." Hera whispered in return. "Nor do I wanne act as if I am afraid of you."

Amelia's skin would have paled even further if that were possible for a vampire.

"Ancestors..." she whispered. "I wouldn't want that either. I love your company..."

She smiled whilst gently pushing Hera's head from her shoulder and then lowered her own head and pressed it against the younger girl's shoulder in return.

"What I want you to do is to think, to have you guard yourself when you're in public." Amelia continued whilst wrapping her own arms around the girl. "You know about the dangers of the world and yet so often you act as if it won't be capable of harming you for as long you ignore it in return."

"You want me to act more like my mother?" Hera asked her, with a voice that sounded at least somewhat resentfully.

The elder chuckled momentarily whilst she resisted the urge to shake her head, the girl obviously had no idea how often she seemed to behave in similar ways as her mother.

"No," Amelia corrected her whilst she removed herself back from Hera and looked the girl in the eyes, "I need you to act like your mother when you're in public."

Amelia's eyes hardened and they turned from a dark colour into an electric yellow. "You are a member of my own retinue and your mother's daughter, but even more importantly you are my chosen fledgling. People will judge me for you and more importantly they will try to test me through you."

Amelia paused momentarily before they she continued.

"You are important to me and they will find that out soon enough, once that has happened those that want to hurt me or challenge me will attack me through you. It will be your blood that will flow because they know they can't cut my heart out except by reaching for it through your chest."

Amelia took another deep breath. "Do you understand?" She asked Hera. "For no matter how annoyed I am with your mother, I will agree that she is right to be worried."

Hera nodded in return.

"Are you afraid?" Amelia asked her whilst Mokka landed upon the girl's shoulder and began brushing through the hair upon the side of Hera's head with her own fury head.

Hera nodded once again.

"It is different than you had imagined, no?" Amelia asked her again. "Not as happy or as easy as you had imagined?"

"Yes." Hera admitted. "And it was far scarier too."

Amelia snorted in return.

"Would you like to leave?" Amelia asked her. "Join up with your mother's warriors and Death Dealers or even another noble's? You could find a far easier or safer existence and return to my side later, when you're older and stronger."

Hera stifled for a few seconds, then she reached for Amelia and pressed herself against the Elder. Moka on the other hand removed herself Hera and hoped over from Hera's shoulder to Amelia's from where she began attacking the Elder's head with her wings whilst she simultaneously made an angry chirping sound. Amelia warded the worst of the bat's assault off by raising her hand up in a protective gesture.

"No I won't." Hera replied with a voice that made it obvious that every letter of those words had to fight to squeeze itself a way between her gnashing teeth.

She took a deep breath and carefully raised her own hand up and placed it above Amelia's to keep Moka from attacking the Elder.

She smiled gently at her little friend who instantly hopped back over to Hera's shoulder.

"Because I don't know whether I will have courage to return if I flee now." Hera continued with a far softer voice which sounded incredibly vulnerable after the anger and hurt she had shown earlier.

Hera took another audible breath. "Would you have preferred it that I told you yes?" She asked Amelia in return whilst Moka stared at the Elder from Hera's shoulder with a posture which seemed to betray something akin to a warning.

Amelia shook her own head. "Did I, throughout this entire conversation, ever imply that I would have done so?" Amelia asked her in return.

"You didn't," Hera admitted. "but do you blame me for asking after you suggested I leave?"

Amelia chuckled softly and then brushed two fingers over Hera's right cheekbone.

The Elder closed her eyes.

"I don't," Amelia whispered before she pressed her lips against Hera's cheek. "Just like I don't want you to leave my side.

She didn't need to open her eyes to realise that Hera was smiling; she could literally feel the pull at the corner of the girl's mouth due to the motion which Hera's jaw had made. She didn't need to open her eyes, but she still did.

It was a rare thing to see a vampire who seemed so genuinely happy and content as Hera now was.

Something which Amelia could envy the girl for and yet she herself felt more pleased than jealous; after all she knew it was she-herself who was the cause of that expression.

Simultaneously however, it was an almost unsettling reminder how young Hera still was, something which her earlier behaviour had made all more obvious.

It was that little stab of guilt which made her eventually break the comfortable silence between them.

"Did you think about your suggestion?" Amelia asked her. "How would you ..." Amelia chuckled softly, "enchant the humans into believing in our magic?"

Hera bit her lip momentarily and then hesitated before she opened her mouth.

"Most of it ought to be easy." Hera admitted. "We can drain a few of their number from their blood and allow them to be buried before their awakening or even burry a few vampires and make them rise from the grave to show them our mastery over the dead."

Hera paused after that sentence. "However that seems too simple and I would like to do more. They claim that we lack a soul so why wouldn't we desire for what we lack?" Hera asked Amelia.

Amelia gave her one more small smile which betrayed some confusion. "Again...how?" She asked Hera in return.

Ilona's daughter took a deep breath and then motioned her head into the direction of her table.

Amelia narrowed her eyes and tried to find some clue in the cluttered mess of objects and scrolls which covered the surface but she noticed nothing which gave her an indication of Hera's goal until Moka flew towards the table and landed upon one of the smallest objects.

The bat grasped it with both her claws and then flew back towards to her "master" before she dropped it in Hera's hand.

"Did you see what it was?" Hera asked her whilst she kept the object hidden in her closed hands.

"I haven't." Amelia told her with a mixture of amusement and annoyance.

Hera's smile broadened and Amelia groaned in return. It was not exactly too difficult to pick up on what kind of game the girl was playing.

"Then what do you think it is?" Hera asked her.

"I don't know." Amelia groaned, obviously not feeling in the mood for such a game. "A wooden orb?"

Hera opened her hands in return. What Amelia saw was not exactly a ball, although it most definitely had been carved from wood.

"A wooden skull?" Amelia asked her. She was curious although she couldn't exactly claim that the appearance of this obviously handmade bauble surprised her. Hera was after all a vampire who had spent the majority of her afterlife in dark and dreary castles or haunted looking ruins which were adorned by gargoyles and whose most consistent companion happened to be a bat.

Hera shook her head. "Almost," she said.

Amelia narrowed her eyes after those words. Whilst Hera's bauble was a bit crude, it was obviously shaped like a skull without a lower jaw.

The Elder reached for the carving and weighed it in her hand before she turned it around and began to observe it from different angles. The object was not completely hollow and she noticed that apart from the gaps for the nose and eyes, it had two more gaps in it. The biggest of these gaps, the one at the bottom of the skull, had been carefully closed with a combination of wax and wood though. The second however, at the backside of the skull, was almost the size of the ones for the eyes and had been left open.

As she felt rather curiously, Amelia raised the skull up in front of her right-eye and attempted to peer through it. She noticed several strange curves in the wood inside of the skull but nothing beyond that.

"I have absolutely no idea." Amelia admitted after another moment. "What is it? The evidence that you have too much free time on your hands?"

Amelia instantly felt a playful smack upon her shoulder and she smiled in return. She was far too fond of those impulsive moments during which Hera didn't seem so self-conscious.

The younger vampire shook her head before she brought the skull towards her lips and took a deep breath.

The gaps which were the skull's eyes stared at Amelia before a rather hoarse howling escaped from the skull.

"A flute." Amelia noticed.

Hera smiled at her. "It still is far from perfect but I gained the idea when I heard a couple of hunters discuss the whistles which they use attract animals and make a joke about the one which they use to lure women."

Amelia raised a single eyebrow at Hera's mention of such a joke but she showed no other reaction. Still it was not difficult to realise that the joke had undoubtedly been a coarse one and considering the fact that she had just mentioned it to her, Amelia suspected that Hera still had to catch upon its ambiguous nature.

"My original goal was to make whistle that could imitate a human's scream but I doubt I will be capable of doing so within the next ... decade." Hera continued her explanation although some of her enthusiasm seemed to evaporate after that last part of her confession.

"Why did you want to do so?" Amelia asked her rather bemused.

"It seemed a rather good idea at the time." Hera muttered. "For example Moka could use it to lure, to distract, to scare or to chase away human enemies and prey."

"Moka?" Amelia asked her.

In return Hera handed the skull over to her bat who flew instantly to the other end of the room and back. All the while she did so, the skull resumed it's screaming although this died away instantly once Moka slowed down.

"It is a lot like a gargoyle." Hera said as she continued her explanation. "But the skull uses the wind and air rather than water."

"Imagine how it would seem to the humans if a couple of the perfected examples with the seize of an actual head and covered with some skin and hair would be hung close to a human graveyard but out of their reach.

Amelia cocked her head. "You mean how would humans react if a couple of what seem like decapitated heads start to scream like banshees whenever a strong wind blows?" She asked Hera.

The Elder grinned. "That is a rather devious thought indeed. It would terrify the humans for certain and we wouldn't even need to make an example for it."

She paused momentarily. "Ancestors," The Elder-Princess whispered with an obvious entertainment in her voice after a few seconds. "It would scare me if you can make it realistic enough."

"I like that idea," Amelia continued whilst she retained some of her earlier mirth. "It might keep Humans away from places we don't want them to go without resorting to pointless violence."

"At least it will work for as long as humans don't dare to break it open and see the wood of the skull." Hera admitted as she recalled Amelia's words during the meeting.

"Someone ought to mention this idea of yours to a capable craftsman." Amelia told her. "I don't know if he would be capable of producing something which can create the sound we need in time for our raid, but I am eager to see its effects none the less."

Amelia chuckled softly at the thought.

"How would you make the mortals believe we can control the werewolves without your mother's dogs?" Amelia asked Hera to change the subject and despite her earlier scepticism during the meeting about the subject, she sounded far more willing to believe in it at the moment.

"I wasn't able to bring the subject on before she stopped listening to me." Hera told her.

Amelia cocked her head after those words, still despite her own suspicions that Hera would have been far less willing to listen to Ilona than the reverse, she kept herself from expressing that particular thought.

Amelia smiled again. "Hera," Amelia began. "What would you do with those animals? What would you do except send them off into the moonlight?"

Hera stared at Amelia for another moment than she took a deep breath. "We both know that werewolves tend to burst out of their human skin when they leave the last shreds of their humanity behind, some of the humans might know that too." She said. "That's what I would make them see. I would stick some shreds of human-looking skin to their pelt and in a few cases add some rags to their appearance as some kind of reminder of their supposed humanity."

Hera chuckled softly after those words. "Maybe I'd smear some blood or something akin to it upon them as well for the effect of it."

"And too camouflage the flaws in the disguise I suppose." Amelia muttered. If she was honest she felt far less confident about this part of Hera's idea. Whereas the Vampires hadn't pretended to be werewolves before, she had heard about mortals making such attempts and none of those had worked out in the end.

Still there was some appeal to the idea and she had to admit that Vampires would have some ways to imitate Werewolves which mortals would lack.

"How would you lure the humans to Victor's mine?" Amelia asked Hera eventually. "That is the one part you have barely touched upon!"

She saw a hint of smirk appear upon Hera's face before the girl schooled her features and began to explain that particular part of the plan.

Amelia wasted a few moments with blinking in disbelief, then she chuckled, however after those initial reactions, she closed her eyes and actually began to contemplate Hera's suggestions again.

"Four days." Amelia whispered eventually. "that's how long I give you to refine those ideas and to help me persuade your mother to lend me her dogs."

"So you're executing my idea?" Hera asked her whilst she wrapped her arms around the Elder.

"Perhaps, if you refine it some more" Amelia admitted whilst she raised one eyebrow with some obvious mock arrogance before a bright laugh broke through her countenance. "it is delightfully different from the other suggestions which tend to limit our efforts to some mere raids and dropping some hints or rumours towards Victor's hideout."

The Elder brushed one hand through Hera's hair whilst the younger vampire rested her head upon Amelia's shoulder.

Amelia waited for a few more moments whilst Hera nuzzled her neck, but she did not push her away, even though Hera wasn't showing so much as a hint that she would be stopping any time soon... or later.

Eventually after what could have been hours later...or mere minutes, Hera moved her head a bit and used the strength in her deceptively lean arms to push the Elder down. Amelia once again made no attempt to stop her, although some part of her knew she would have to if she ever wanted Hera to follow protocol.

"Will you accompany me tomorrow?" Hera asked Amelia whilst adopting a slight pout when she met the Elders gaze.

"To who or what?" Amelia asked her as she suddenly discovered an incredibly interesting stain upon the ceiling of Hera's room.

A soft chuckle escaped Hera's throat in return as she reached for the Elder's hand and utilised the opportunity to entwine her own fingers with Amelia's.

Amelia's attempts to evade Hera's pout were sabotaged however by a factor outside of the Elder's control. Moka decided to help her mistress by messing with Amelia's hair and as such she forced the Elder to gaze down.

There it was, Hera's lower lip was slowly quivering and Amelia noticed a small watery glimmer at the corner of the younger vampire's eyes.

"Amelia?" whispered Hera with a soft voice which reminded Amelia instinctively to a string which was about to snap under the strain. "Would you mind accompanying me to the woodcrafters tomorrow?"

Amelia knew Hera, she knew the girl wouldn't be able to keep up her facade for long, because that was what it was, a facade and there was no way the girl wasn't simply trying to manipulate her into- an almost hysterical giggle broke through Hera's facade and ruined her earlier impression.

Amelia took a deep breath in return in gratitude for this impromptu but not unexpected save.

"Nice try, little one." Amelia told her with a superior looking smile.

"It isn't my fault." Hera replied whilst retaining her grin. "Your ...hair."

Amelia reached instinctively for her head and growled softly as she felt part of it standing up.

"You...like Moka a lot... don't you?" Amelia asked her whilst she turned her head slowly towards the bat.

Said bat instantly flew up to the ceiling and wrapped her claws into the wood which was high above them.

Hera on the other threw herself forward and wrapped one arm around the Elder as she made a first attempt to keep Amelia down.

Said Elder only laughed in return as she wrapped her own arms around the younger Vampire.

"I got you." She whispered as she now rolled over and forced Hera upon her back.

The girl was laughing loudly in return.

Amelia stopped after a few seconds whilst Hera remained underneath her and stared up at her in return. The distance between them was short, even short enough to not just allow Amelia to hear the sound of the girl's breathing, but they were close enough that she could literally feel it upon her skin.

Amelia shook her head as if she was trying to physically dislodge the thoughts which had appeared inside of her head.

"Will you come with me?" Hera repeated to the Elder whilst she saw Moka descend from the ceiling.

Amelia turned her head with an obvious glare towards the bat who instantly flew up again.

"It would be just like before." Hera suggested, which made Amelia sigh instantly.

It would be like before, however Hera's position was no longer like before. Whilst she was and always would remain Ilona's daughter. She was no longer a child or even merely considered as such. Now she was an adult and a warrior, a grown woman in the eyes of everyone except possibly her mother and maybe sometimes in Amelia's own eyes. It was a hard task to differentiate the girl who was playing around with her bat from the woman who seemed just as eager to do the same. It had only been a few months but now it was as if Hera had crossed a border and kept acting in accordance to the same rules she always had without realising that she was skirting or even outright breaking the laws with almost every action.

Then she stared in Hera's eyes and sighed deeply.

She was being ridiculous and she knew it as well. She could argue all she wanted in her mind and weigh every possible argument pro and contra about agreeing with Hera's request and it wouldn't matter a thing.

Because deep down she knew that she had wanted to say yes from the moment Hera's question left her lips.

Said vampire had kept waiting attentively for Amelia's answer.

"Yes," Amelia told her, "I'll be accompanying you."

A gleeful Hera wrapped her arms tightly around the Elder as she spouted numerous, rather elaborate alternatives for the two words which could have sufficed;"thank you".

* * *

Amelia raised another eyebrow whilst she heard the much younger vampire argue with the artisan.

The Elder shook her head whilst she ignored the other vampires who were currently observing the spectacle from the ring wall, the nearby castle-windows or who were staring unabashed from the courtyard at the wooden shack which had been constructed directly against the wall.

By now, she was already of half a mind to simply intervene herself and order the man to do the job she wanted him to do. As entertaining as the earlier argument between Hera and the carpenter had been, by now it had lost all it's lustre to her. To her, however was the most important part of that particular sentence. It was quite obvious that to a great many other castle dwellers, there were few things as entertaining as seeing one of the highest "born" vampires denied of getting her way.

Well there was that and the part which involved both the carpenter and Hera raising their voices and getting more confrontational after every new sentence.

In Hera's defence it probably hadn't helped that he had dismissed her wooden skull as a child's fabrication. In his defence, it was quite obvious that Hera knew very little about instrument building and that she had indeed worded her ideas more like the enthusiastic ramblings of a child rather than a coordinated, well-developed idea.

Amelia waited for another while, as she hoped against her better knowing in that Hera would be capable of persuading him herself. However she suspected that after the first minute of discussion or so, anything short from a direct intervention by an Elder or Ilona would fail to sway his opinion.

In front of her she noticed Hera's fervour dying down and the man who stood opposite of her seemed to scent the metaphorical blood in return.

Amelia saw Hera take a deep breath and throw a quick glance behind her, and then the younger vampire seemed to stiffen and growled back at the carpenter with a renewed fury.

Moka who until earlier had been resting upon the teenager's left shoulder whilst hiding her own fur covered head behind her leathery wings now flew up and flapped with her wings whilst she exposed her own fangs and claws as if she tried to express her own anger at the latest cause of Hera's annoyance.

However it was only after two of the man's helpers arrived to back him up that Amelia decided to intervene.

Both newcomers were tall men, they had a physique which was remarkably similar to a bear and Amelia suspected that they had either been woodsmen or blacksmiths in their previous life. If the four of them had still been human, it would have looked particularly ugly for Hera. However they weren't and even if their stature remained an imposing reminder of their strength, Amelia had been a vampire for too long for that to matter in her eyes. Hera on the other hand seemed momentarily discouraged, however it took no more than a moment before she exposed her fangs with another snarl in return.

"My lady." The man said in acknowledgment of Amelia's own, far lower position whilst he and his helpers lowered their heads instantly.

"Are you capable of crafting it or not?" Amelia asked the man without even bothering to look him in the eyes.

"I could do so." He admitted. "However I doubt I could do so in a matter of days, even if I succeed in recreated the requested effect upon my first attempt."

Amelia narrowed her eyes as she judged the man's posture; it was hard to say whether the man was genuinely claiming whether it could not be done or merely tried to escape the work.

Eventually she sighed. "Deliver me a model in another three days." She said. "You can work upon refining the concept in accordance to our wishes afterwards."

For a single moment it seemed as if he was about to protest, then he lowered his gaze again. Despite their size, it was obvious that neither of these men was a veritable warrior and Amelia wasted a moment to wonder how these three had survived the struggle which was their Turning.

She turned around again and motioned Hera to follow her.

"Follow me," she told Hera with a voice which was loud enough for each of them to hear. "We need to have words with your mother."

Hera nodded in return. "I guess we can't leave her hounds for last." She muttered in return although it whether she was asking a question or making a remark was something which neither of them could figure out.

Amelia shook her head. "We'll need her help for far more than merely her hounds, Hera." She told the girl in reply.

* * *

 **For those who were wondering, Hera had originally intended her trip with Amelia to woodcarvers to lead to something far more date-like. That attempt for a sort-of-date died almost instantly though...poor Hera**

 **Ezüst Terem (the area of Victor's new fortress) is Hungarian for silver hall (according to google translate)**


	4. The bloody beginnings of a fairy tale

**First off all a sincere thank you to everyone who reviewed, favourited, followed or read this story despite the long time between the updates... 2017 was tough. Something which unfortunately was reflected in the number of updates for both stories. I am still eying 2018 with wariness, but I won't go and say anything good (or bad) about it until we're at least 2019 (and even then I will be looking up and down for a collapsing ceiling/ floor... or rather a lightning bolt or flood). However I will be saying that it was a busy year if nothing else (my banking account has finally stopped threatening me with a baseball-bat whenever I need money, chuckle). And thus...to celebrate a paired chapter from Bound by Blood. (remember to read the third chapter first before you start at the latest chapter).**

 **Lastly a final thank you to the one person who now has been a beta for chapters of both my stories: Lord Protector Corvo Attano.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't either of the two series.**

* * *

It was two weeks later that Hera gently padded the neck of her horse, Nyx, since the animal seemed intent to keep attempting to drag her mistress away from the deep darkness which had surrounded the hollow road in the forest.

This road was another remnant of Dacia's short-lived existence as a Roman province. The majority of the cities and villages which had been connected by the cobblestones had disappeared centuries ago and with them, so had the last people who had made a tentative attempt to maintain these roads.

As Hera stood there, several centuries after it's original creation, there was little that remained of the original Roman road. Even the eyes of a vampire could only occasionally detect areas where the smooth stones had found their way to the surface instead of getting smothered by the ever encroaching grip of nature.

However whilst the majority of the stones had disappeared quite rapidly underneath the mud, the trees had remained far more hesitant to approach the former roads and this had created long, although fairly narrow tracks where nothing larger than a shrubbery dared to obstruct the approach of those who treaded those abandoned paths.

There were times when Hera could understand the imagined fears from some of the more superstitious mortals who even after centuries stilled feared the spirits who were said to dwell into the stones.

Nyx whinnied as the wind turned and she caught a hint of a small canine whose nose protruded from one of the nearby bushes.

"Hush," Hera whispered half-distracted whilst she waited for Moka's arrival.

A small smile momentarily tugged at the corner of her lips after she had recognised their latest visitor.

So did her mother's dogs and the massive beasts instantly bared their teeth at their much smaller cousin whilst their handlers braced their boots against something solid and grasped an even tighter hold of the chains which were connected to the studded collars around the dogs' necks.

The fox realised instantly that his curiosity had brought him far too close to the danger, shot off and disappeared into the night. The dog handlers swore softly at the animal's rapidly retreating tail as they tried to calm their own companions down again.

"Without a doubt he's heading straight for his lair." Hera suspected whilst her earlier smile grew a bit wider.

However whilst the dogs were powerful creatures, none of them stood a chance against the far greater strength of the vampires who held their chains and the animals settled down again as their instincts were forced to give way against the training which had been ingrained into them throughout the years.

Despite their bared teeth and the hairs which had stood up none of the animals had made more than the slightest of sounds. Hera knew fairly little about dogs, those animals had been her mother's pets, not hers, however she knew enough to realise what this implied about the thoroughness of their training.

The handlers and trainers who accompanied the animals were likewise her mother's.

Most of these men had been poachers or dog handlers throughout their lives; however the Elders rarely required large numbers of this last group.

Hera's mother's interest on the other hand had never been fixed upon the Eternal War against William and his Spawn. Therefore, most these men had become experienced in another kind of war which was no less eternal but far less dangerous and far tastier then the bloody battle against the Werewolves. They were among those who chased humans down and usually Amelia would have refused to add such " _warriors_ " to her own ranks without a proper testing, however Ilona's demands had been clear and their skills had been impossible to teach in such a short time.

After all, those who face off against those other descendants of Corvinus rarely employ dogs since those animals knew they stood no chance against the real monsters...which explained why even brave dogs often ran off before a werewolf attacked. It was a paltry warning before such an attack, but even a late warning was better than none at all.

Simultaneously however, dogs and horses were not that much more comfortable with vampires and it was a testament to the incessant breaking and training of horses by the lower ranking servants that the Death Dealers tended to be so well mounted or that the lesser warriors and hunters often could take a few dogs with them.

Hera guessed she could understand why Ilona's trainers were so tense at the moment; after all, it was not likely that these vampires would have been given as many opportunities to indulge themselves with fresh, human blood as their connection to Ilona's hunters implied. Despite their weapons, what they were in the eyes of most of the other vampires was servants rather than warriors and this lesser status made the opportunity to indulge themselves with fresh human blood a rare one since their turn came among the last ones at almost every other occasion.

She was only partly right though.

The patron of said lower ranking vampires stood only a few feet away from her.

"Are you ready?" Ilona asked her as she handed the reins of her horse, Lucifer, over to one of those lower vampires.

"I am ready." Hera told her with a voice which sounded rather muffled due to her helmet. Despite these words, her stiff posture implied otherwise though.

In this she contrasted greatly with her mother who herself had not shown so much as a single hint of nervousness or even care at all whilst the other vampires had made themselves comfortable in the small clearing. Most vampires had made small jokes or just had just spoken against each other in an attempt to hear the reassuring sound of their own voice, others had checked their weaponry like Hera had done whilst they waited for the scouts to return.

Vampires generally risked little in a confrontation with mortals, they were far stronger, faster and generally even the least skilled among them was a match for all but the most talented and experienced of mortals. Furthermore their weaponry was generally of a far higher quality and their armour was made by highly experienced artisans whilst that of mortals was often non-existent.

Still all it could take to cut their eternity short was a single arrow which slipped between gaps of their armour or a single moment of negligence before an axe or a hammer came down upon their neck.

There was nervousness alright, but Ilona knew all it would take to turn this in a bloodthirsty madness was a single order and the scent of mortal blood.

The woman pointed her eyes towards her daughter when she noticed said girl release the reins of her horse and move towards one of the nearby trees as she took her skull-like helmet from her head.

Once Hera stood underneath tree, she made a few high pitched noises before the teenager extended her arm towards one of the lower branches of the tree.

Ilona noticed something small and dark crawl over the underside of that branch like a liquid shadow. Then the shadow seemed to drop from the bark like a massive drop of black water into Hera's gloved right hand.

Hera's mother saw the smile which instantly appeared upon her daughter's features when she brought her hand carefully towards her armoured chest.

As Ilona moved closer she recognised the quivering black mass in Hera's hand as a young bat which seemed to chirp happily as Hera made soft, cooing noises and carefully brushed a single finger over his head.

Victor's wife noticed several other vampires tilt their head at the spectacle which Hera unknowingly had become. However the features of most people had softened at the view, even if this particular distraction would be a short-lived one.

Then Ilona saw how Hera turned her back towards the tree again, although she kept her hands carefully around the bat to protect it during this sudden turn. Her expression which had seemed rather pleased and curious earlier, now betrayed a far greater happiness.

It took several more moments but then Ilona saw the dark blur which soared over the heads of the gathered horses and vampires before she landed upon Hera's cloaked shoulder.

Hera's left-hand reached instantly for the larger bat who brushed her own body against the side of the young Death Dealer's head whilst the girl instantly rewarded the gesture with her own caressing of the animal's fur covered head.

Despite the fact that Moka was an animal, everything in her posture just screamed smugness as she looked down upon the smaller bat.

For a single moment it seemed as if the other bat would attempt to attract Hera's attention by climbing up her chest but Moka stared down with what most likely was the bat- equivalent of a glare and this persuaded the other bat stay down whilst Hera kept playing with her own companion as she turned around.

"And I now pronounce you my loyal servant," whispered Ilona with a small, reminiscing smile as she stared at the spectacle she had witnessed so many times over the years, "you may now kiss my fur."

The noble's whispered words were spot on as it was on that particular moment during which Hera pressed a swift kiss upon the side of Moka's head.

Hera only stopped playing with her little "pet" when she stood almost in front of her mother.

"Moka told me Amelia has taken her position upon the cliffs near the lake, all the preparations are done and your scouts are on their way back." Hera told the woman with a calm voice before Moka intervened with a few shorts chirps.

Hera chuckled as she poked Moka a few times in the stomach.

"What I tried to say," Hera continued as a small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, "is that the first of those **three** men are about to reach the summit of the nearest hill to our left whilst the remaining **four** men and Amelia have hidden themselves opposite of the shrine next to the lake."

Ilona narrowed her eyes momentarily whilst she turned her head towards the nearest hill.

Hera's mother gave a nod towards the nearest of her dog handlers as said servants and the animals which they accompanied made their way towards the edge of said hillock.

Ilona herself had been far less enchanted by the idea which Amelia had ended up proposing at the council, still she had submitted to the opinions of the two remaining Elders who had shown a far greater enthusiasm for the rather creative solution which Amelia had proposed to them.

Despite that she could not help but feel a bitter grin tug at the corner of her mouth when she saw " _their werewolves_ " move forward.

Most of her "wolf handlers" had been lowborn men when they had still been human, they had been powerful and large but also marked by their life and heritage. Each of them carried some markings from the fangs and claws of both animals and their former masters... and if Ilona was honest she was not certain which of those two had left the most horrible scars upon their body and spirit.

The result of this was a group of undeath who could hardly have appeared more different from the Vampire-aristocrats if they had been members of entirely different race of creatures.

There was little refinement in their appearance, nor was there the nonchalant elegance in their movements which was prevalent in almost every other Vampire. Instead these men spoke with slow but rather harsh voices as if they wouldn't use words otherwise and they occasionally had to remind themselves to speak rather than bark or growl.

When Ilona saw them walk past her in those shirts of animal hide, cloaks of wolf's fur and a wolf jaw which hid their helmet and most of the features from their faces, she couldn't help but feel as if this new appearance was something which came far more natural to them than their regular, uniformed appearance.

When she first had heard about disguising her handlers and dogs as werewolves, Ilona had laughed whilst she imagined something clownesque. She had been wrong though and it was only after seeing their new appearance that she realised it had been far from a laughing matter, instead she felt herself constantly reminded about the uncomfortable, shared heritage of Marcus and William.

Neither her dogs, nor her handlers were werewolves but it was hard to imagine them as something else as she saw them walking by. Whether she liked it or not, she would have to admit that, ...somehow ... Hera had proven herself remarkably capable of bringing some kind of nightmare to life.

The sad part about these disguises was that her dogs seemed less like a canine monster than the vampires had been made out to be. The actual beasts seemed no less ferocious than otherwise of course, but Hera's alternations to their appearance seemed far more modest. Their fur had been treated to give them wilder appearance and to make them look even larger, animal blood had smeared around their mouths and occasionally matted their belly or sides in an attempt to give an impression of only half-healed wounds. Finally someone had carefully knitted small pieces of pigskin and cloth through their pelt.

However it definitely were the vampires who had gone through the greatest metamorphose. Here Hera had opted for a combination of both ancient and imagined symbols in black warpaint as well as pig's blood which had been splattered upon their clothes and bare skin. Like their charges, each of them was coated with a mixture of wolf's fur and hides, however unlike those animals each of the men still showed plenty of their bare skin, even if this flesh was stained by a mixture of blood and ink. Those "decorations" made it sheer impossible to recognise where the pale or painted flesh from the man ended and where the pieces of pigskin began. Said pieces of skin moved with every motion the vampires made and this made it seem as if they exposed another dark, half-healed wound every time they did so much as take a deep breath.

Furthermore, one of Hera's last-minute-additions had been the black shawls which now obscured the features of every man's face. To Ilona, it was merely unsettling to see a group of unrecognisable men walk around, but to humans who lacked their night vision... they would see only the wolf's head towering above them rather than the masked warriors underneath.

The result of it all was something that seemed like the heritage of a wizard's madness. These were no savage creatures which represented the fury of the wilderness, what they actually looked like was a tortured and broken hybrid of man and beast. As terrifying as they seemed, nobody who would lay eyes upon them would doubt that they could be tamed or broken.

It made Ilona genuinely wonder about what kind of monstrosities the girl would craft if they persisted upon this course and she half-suspected that Hera indeed would end up creating a bastardization of a vampire like her own husband jokingly had suggested during the meeting.

A first scout descended from the summit and Ilona could see the man hesitate momentarily as he walked towards the doghandlers. Eventually said warrior made a small detour to move them past them and even so the warrior couldn't help but turn his head towards them when he passed them by. Each of the doghandlers stood motionless as they noticed him go past them, only the wolf's head upon their helmets seemed to move slightly as if they were seizing him up. Underneath those helmets, there was not a hint of emotion visible due the black cloth which covered their features however even so the air shook softly when a muted growl resounded through the clearing.

Then there was the even softer sound of metal sliding over a soft surface and all of suddenly one of the disguised hounds shot forward towards the newcomer. The man instinctively jumped backwards, which kept him out of the reach of the slavering maws before the animal's jump fell short.

Another soft, growling sound which seemed like a mixture of a dogs barking and a human laugh came from the nearby "wolf-men" as one of them held the animal back by the chain which had been connected to their collar.

For a single moment it seemed as if the scout would yell back at them. The man squared his shoulders, straightened his back... and stared in the blackness which obscured the doghandler's face. Above that, the wolf's head glared down upon him. The scout hesitated momentarily, perhaps it was due to the last lingering remains of his human superstitions or merely the rivalry between the two lineages which descended from Corvinus, but either way he stopped and changed his mind.

Instead he marched towards Victor's wife.

"The other units have taken their positions, my lady." He told her with a respectful voice whilst he kneeled down in front of her. "Furthermore lady Amelia and her guards have made their own preparations. They will be capable of acting once the attack has taken place."

Ilona nodded at the warrior. "All the preparations have taken place?" She asked him as she put an emphasis upon the first word.

The man nodded again. "Indeed they have, my lady."

"And the Magyar?" Ilona asked him.

"We've scouted out the village." He told her. "They have a few individual guardsmen on the outside of the palisade around the town and several small patrols within the confines of the village, no more than that."

He took a deep breath. "They failed to spot us at the time and we retreated before they could. They might find some traces of our presence in the morning if we don't attack them tonight, though."

The man had the good grace to look ashamed after he confessed that particular failure.

Ilona simply nodded without showing any sign of her annoyance at this last confession.

"Garm," she said with calm voice that was heard by everyone without even attempting to speak up. "Take your comrades and the dogs forward. Sweep through the village, kill the guards and everything which obstructs your path!"

Said man, the head of her dog handlers nodded in return whilst he pushed a small dog whistle underneath his scarf.

"Remember you task, Garm!" Ilona reminded him with calm voice which betrayed no worries but merely hinted at a slight irritation. "Make certain that you are seen but that you can't be too closely observed. If anyone falls you will take the body with you as you skulk around the edge of the town."

Said man, a veritable giant, nodded in return before he hesitated momentarily. "I will, my lady!" He added with a rather rough voice whilst he raised a single arm, then he brought it down in the direction of the village whilst he blew his whistle.

Ilona growled softly when her ears caught the shrill sound and she gave Lucifer, her horse, a few reassuring taps upon the side of his neck when he tried to move his head as far away as possible from this particular annoyance.

Behind her she saw both Moka and the other bat take flight and bare their teeth at the rapidly shrinking back from the head of the dog handlers.

"Behind me, Hera!" Ilona ordered her daughter with a calm voice whilst she drew her own sword before she turned her head and sought for the leaders of Amelia's and her own Death Dealers. "Form up and follow your Head's instructions. We will strike fast and from several directions...after my hounds had their bite!"

* * *

The village of this particular "tribe" of Magyar was a fairly large place, especially for a people that tended to follow in the traces of their nomadic ancestors. However this area had been an exceptionally fertile region and every tribe had those members who would have preferred the simpler, safer live of a sedentary subsistence over the freedom and the dangers of a nomadic existence.

When these members had separated themselves from the others, it had been mostly the old and weak members of the tribe, however they had managed to survive and even prosper. Their former head-man had been willing to appreciate the potential of maintaining his protection and authority over these men and women. Rather than dismissing them as another flock of sheep, a suitable prey for the self-proclaimed, "mounted wolves" of the steppe, the man had retained his protection over them in exchange for a minor tithe. Year after year, more men and women who came to lack the strength necessary for their constant travels were allowed to settle there and came to understand the hardships which the woods, lakes and fields otherwise hid from the travelling nomads.

As the village expanded however other groups of men rose from within the confines of the palisade. These were the young men who had grown up with the stories from their parents and their neighbours about their former travels, about the beauty of the world, about the riches which it contained and the ease with which those treasures could be taken from their current owners.

Some of them, the bravest or the most desperate from among them took up the weapons and equipment which once belonged to their parents and left their home after which they joined the same tribes who had once accepted their parents as their own and which were now eager to offer them the same.

It was one of these men whose broken possessions had led the vampires to this village.

The village had been a good place to live for most people, work was hard and plentiful but it was not the crippling burden which it was in other areas. It hadn't been rife with mind numbing boredom either, there had been plenty of variation in the work: there were fields and woods, houses, a lake, furthermore there even was a church, a testament to the growing influence of Christianity in this region and finally there was a slowly crumbling altar which had been devoted to a much older and now forgotten pagan god or goddess.

It had been a hard and simple existence, but it was a life which satisfied most of them and the way the settlement had crafted into the landscape reflected this.

The buildings were mostly of wood and earth, although there still was a number of felt tents which indicated the rather recent arrival of some newcomers from among the marauding tribesmen.

Each of these houses was adorned with small figures which had been carefully cut into the wood of doors, doorposts or window frames. Likewise there stood several chairs or tables outside and almost every one of these was adorned with similar figures and characters. Most of these cuttings were small and rather crude and these were as much an indication of ownership as they were an attempt to adorn the objects. Others however were much more refined, although this was not so much an indication of the presence of a skilled craftsman as it was a testament to the patience and the dedicated efforts of their owners.

Lastly there were those scratches which were far larger and cruder than both of the previous attempts; these were the inexperienced scribblings from some of the younger and wilder children who had been "terrorising" the village.

Most of the village had been surrounded by an earthen rampart although the wall on top of it was rarely more than a single row of stakes, which made it more like a stockade which was intended to keep some their own harmless animals in and to persuade the more dangerous animals outside of the place to keep their distance.

Furthermore there were three look-out towers, however these were little more than a platform which was elevated by another set of exceptionally long stakes.

Lastly there were the gates, these were the main-determents to keep an invader out, and nevertheless like the rest of their defences, these were rather small and far too fragile to do more than to slow an determent assailant down for more than a few moments.

Béla was one of the few men who made their rounds on the outside of the village, these were the mortals who risked the most at the outset of danger, however in accordance to the relative short history of their village they risked little. Apart from the occasional, lonely wolf who dared to approach the settlement when winter was at his harshest, there had been nothing to fear until that particular night.

Thus it was hardly a surprise that when Béla heard the howling of such a predator, the young man felt little fear. All he did was change his grasp upon his spear as he continued his round and made certain to raise his torch high above his head.

A second howl erupted from the nearby woods and this time, the sound came from some spot far nearer to him.

This time Béla halted and turned his head towards the forest, the young man hesitated momentarily as he wondered about what he would do.

Wolves were instinctively afraid of humans, he knew that much and they feared fire even more so he ought to be safe even if he was alone and on the outside of the palisade.

Then again, the young man threw a quick glance at his torch, if it somehow extinguished...

A third howl came from the nearby forest and this time, Béla took an instinctive step backwards and stabbed the torch in the ground after which he clumsily grasped his spear with both his hands.

"That one came from the left." He whispered to himself as he pointed his weapon in the direction of the sound.

His eyes tried to pierce the darkness which had come with the night and not for the first time he recalled some of the stories which had been associated with said darkness... and with wolves.

"It doesn't matter," he muttered. "They're afraid of light and fire."

Then he heard another sound, however this one was much softer and came from much closer. It took Béla another moment to recognise the sound for what it was and once it did he felt as if he his chest had been grasped by a massive claw which had been made of ice.

It was a deep intake breath.

A massive weight fell down upon his back as he tried to turn around. Strangely the first thing he became aware of wasn't pain, it was the scent of burning hide which came from his tunic which was now smothering the torch.

Béla tried to roll away but he was pushed down against the ground by something which was the size of a large rock but which felt much heavier.

He saw the light which came from the fires behind the palisade and he desperately reached for the tentative safety which it offered and yet it had never felt farther away.

As Béla opened his mouth to scream, he first caught a glimpse of movement from the corner of his eye, it was only then that he noticed the clawed hand which was raised up and the nails which extended from upon every finger like the talons from a predatory bird.

As the gates of hell opened up for the unfortunate man, death's arrival was accompanied by nothing louder than a smothered gurgling and the sound of tearing flesh.

As he looked down upon his prey, Garm led out a deep breath whilst he opened his clawed hand and dropped the piece of flesh and vertebra upon the ground.

The giant hunter slowly inhaled the steaming air which rose up from the wound whilst he raised the piece of cloth up which obscured his features.

A relieved sigh escaped his own throat whilst he began to lick his bloodied fingers clean.

After that the head of the dog handlers grasped the dead boy's wrist and dragged him of towards the forest.

Two other bodies had been hidden behind the trees and he could see that each of the killed men had been given numerous claw marks before his blood could coagulate.

It should have surprised nobody that each of the remaining hunters carried a dark stain upon his mask which was similar to Garm's.

The hunter simply smiled in return and sought for the last of his subordinates, the one who was responsible for the fourth victim. Said vampire appeared after another moment, like Garm, he too carried the telltale stain upon his mask, but this time Garm narrowed his eyes momentarily.

The four bodies of those guards were supposed to be hidden upon this spot, not left near the palisade were they couldn't keep an eye upon them until they actually had the time employ the bone daggers with which they were supposed to imitate the actual claws of werewolves in case there actually was something like a werewolf-hunter in the vicinity.

Garm growled softly at the younger man but then dismissed the other vampire's failing as unimportant for now, he would drag the body up to there after the battle. What the Elder and the Death Dealers didn't know could not be used to punish their servants.

Instead the man raised himself to his full height and clawed his fingers whilst took a deep breath. Behind him every other disguised vampire and the dogs tensed his or her muscles whilst they prepared themselves to head for the village.

There was only one thought upon everyone's mind; "this was it, this was the moment they had waited upon for years, their chance to kill and to bathe in human blood like it was water!"

A loud howl rose from the forest and the lone gatekeeper, the last remaining guard, another young man named Kurz pointed his head in it direction as he wondered why the wolves were so unusually loud tonight. It was only then when he noticed the shadows which came racing from the forest towards him and he opened his mouth to scream.

* * *

The first thing they saw from the nightmare that was unleashed upon their village was the gate bursting open. Wood cracked in futile attempt to resist the superhuman strength of their assailants before it splintered and both parts of the gates swung open like the wings from a bird ... or rather the tilted maw from a monster.

It was only then that the attackers entered, the first of them were two large undead wolf-men who appeared before the gates, however even before these had placed their first foot upon the earth from the village they were overtaken by massive canine monstrosities.

Said beasts tore off at their nearest victims, two men who had been patrolling inside of the village and like the animals had been taught, they went straight for the throat.

Garm growled as he stormed past them and found his path obstructed by a still drowsy looking man who was dressed in no more than a tunic which had hastily thrown on.

The giant vampire instantly grasped the man's wrist before he caught a hold of his shoulder with his other hand.

The man struggled in vain against the vampire's cold grip and the vampire grunted softly as he pushed the man's back against his wall of his own home and then he exclaimed a much louder growl which ended in triumphant howl whilst his victim fell down whilst he shrieked in agony.

The man seemed to instinctively shrink together whilst he kept reaching with his one remaining arm into the emptiness where his other arm had been.

Whilst the man did so, Garm raised his trophy high above his head and enjoyed the feeling from the warm, crimson fluid which was gushing from the open wound.

Garm laughed and howled in exhilaration as he found himself surrounded by blood.

Another doghandler shot past him and Garm saw him pounce at another villager, a far older looking male who had armed himself with a long, single-edged blade.

The man was thrown past them by the violence from the disguised vampire's assault and began to shriek loudly before his assailant stilled said man's resistance with a stabbing motion from his hand which drove the vampire's long nails deep into his neck.

Garm saw the other vampire lower his head as he soaked the dark cloth which hid his features with the blood of the convulsing man. However that was what he saw, the humans who caught a glimpse of said spectacle saw something different with their heavy-lidded, confused eyes.

What they saw as they came to realise that they had awoken in a nightmare was a wolf's head which placed upon the fur coated body of a massive, but tortured looking man. And that bloodied head rose slowly up like the head of a snake at the sight of a new prey.

For a moment both sides stared at each other in tense anticipation, then another shriek dispelled the spell and both sides charged at each other.

The confrontation between them was brief and bloody as the vampires used their inhuman strength to take these prey out and then continued to make their way through the village.

As the noise refused to die down there were more villagers who stuck their head out of the opening of a window or a door and became aware of something far more serious being amiss than a mere drunk or a joke which had gotten out of hand.

Garm's mad grin was invisible underneath his mask whilst he kept relishing in the sensation of having smashed the sleepy eyed peasant's head against wall of another house until the skull broke like the fragile shell of an egg.

However, it had a reason that it had been Garm who had been given the rank of headman. As much as Garm revelled in the fear and the blood around him, the vampire knew better than to forget about his orders. As such the dog handler gave a quick slap against shoulder of the nearest of the disguised vampires before he grabbed the hidden collar from one of the dogs.

The giant growled angrily before he pointed one taloned finger into the direction of the church, which stood lonely at the edge of the village as if it only had been included as an afterthought.

It was at that point when a loud sound arose above the village, someone, perhaps the priest or one of the monks who had accompanied him had climbed the ladder to the small tower which overshadowed the rest of the church and was now slamming an iron hammer against the brass of the bell.

Garm growled in annoyance as he realised he was wasting too much time and set off towards the church. It was then that the first arrow clattered against the wall.

Garm wasted a single moment to look for the cause and noticed a single archer who had launched the missile from within the limited protection of her home.

Then as if they had magically been called forth, more arrows shot out of the open doors, windows and side streets. The disguised vampire even noticed a few men and woman who had climbed upon the wicker roofs and who now endured the discomfort of numeral small branches pricking into the unprotected flesh from their limbs as they launched their projectiles at the hunters and the dogs in the streets.

Garm growled again as he made another gesture in the direction of the church and set off, the others followed his command and went after him as they kept running and jumping to spoil the aim of the archers whilst they kept tearing the occasional villager who tried to stop them to pieces.

However there was little space to move around and yet, there were many directions from which the projectiles could fall down upon them. And thus, despite their inhuman reflexes, it was inevitable that first of the projectiles found the opportunity to tear through both the animal skins as well as the undead flesh underneath it.

The leader of the undead dog handlers snarled softly as the number of arrows that fell among his men rose steadily. He could tell that more and more the villagers were leaving their houses to help their friends and relatives to take them down.

It was only then that he reached the church. The building stood alone, but the land which surrounded the place was far from empty. Unlike the far older Greek and Frankish churches or monasteries, it was not surrounded by gravestones, the building was far too young for these. Instead the otherwise open space was dominated by single cross which had been carved from stone and a small number of tables, stands and other kinds of wooden shacks. Garm suspected that this was the plaza were the villagers gathered to meet, haggle, talk or to welcome their guests.

Garm however saw another use for the objects as he dove past one of the nearest tables and tilted the piece of furniture with one powerful heave before he pushed it against one of the nearby stand to create some cover. Merely moments later he saw the first arrow pierce through the wooden top of the table and if he went by the dry-sounding thuds which followed after that, it wouldn't take long before his improvised shield would fall apart underneath the onslaught of projectiles.

He heard numerous cries on the other side of the table, the sound of humans who encouraged each other, requested a blessing or called for silver and torches.

As the leader of the Dog handlers threw a quick glance over the table he saw one tall figure in a robe of rough looking wool who was making gestures with a small cross above the weapons of some of the villagers before he marched to the next group of humans.

As Garm dove back behind the barricade, he looked for the others who had followed him here and he noticed that a few of them carried the traces of arrows.

None of these wounds would kill them though, but they did hurt and as the humans grew more confident they began to crawl closer and sought for blind spots and vulnerabilities.

Garm growled softly. "If they want to keep the humans from getting a closer look at us, they better come quickly!" He muttered to himself.

As if to emphasis these words, another round of chiming rose above the village before Garm heard a powerful male voice call for an assault, "to let God's light chase away the darkness and all it's creatures."

However before they could do so, there was a new sound which rose from the darkness which surrounded the village. This was a sound akin to a hundred drummers hammering their sticks down upon the skin which covered the top of their instrument as if they were madmen or ... as the earth began to quaver... the heavy muttering of an earthquake which topples trees and tears down buildings like playing cards.

However it was worse than either of these for it contained the bloodthirsty madness of the first and it was no more capable of being stopped by the prayers of the villagers then the second.

* * *

The wave of horsemen tore through the gate like a black flood.

A first villager screamed as he noticed the heavily armoured warriors upon their barbed horses racing towards them. This man turned around and ran for his life before he dove into one of the nearby streets.

"Mine!" Yelled one of the first vampires as he pulled at the reins of his horse and steered it after the fleeing mortal.

Another villager reacted with a surprising calm as she placed herself in front of the others who seemed temporary frozen to the ground. This one was a young woman who reached slowly into the quiver upon her back but rather than drawing an arrow, she grasped a long strand of garlic and held that in front of her like a talisman.

She stood there like that for a few moments; confident in the mystical protection of the plant against the undeath, then she opened her eyes wide and dropped the plant before she disappeared underneath the hooves of the horses without even slowing them down.

Behind the woman there was an aging man who reached for his weapon; this was a fairly long single-edged sword that was suited for fighting from a horse's back. The man smiled grimly as he saw the horsemen charge at him. "How ironic," He muttered whilst he grabbed the handle of his sword with both his hands, "to die whilst defending my home from marauding horsemen."

Then the spear from one of the leading horsemen came straight at him and the former warrior saw the tip of the weapon slip past his sword before he felt the weapon's impact upon his belly.

The lancer laughed loudly as he pushed the man over the ground without even reining his horse in and shredded the clothes and skin of the man's back until the lance bended through and snapped.

Usually the blood in a vampire's veins ran cold and they acted as such, but as they continued their wild ride they rediscovered the rush which could only come from slaughter and bloodshed. With every step the horses made the vampires felt their control fade and in its stead came a drive which was not so much caused by their natural thirst for blood as it was a reminiscent from a very human desire to kill.

There was wrath on their mind as they continued towards the plaza and trampled everything in their path until the sandy road between the houses became a slurry of mud and blood.

And then as they finally reached the plaza, that night's butchery began for real.

Ilona stared down at the massacre with a dispassionate, almost empty gaze behind the mask of her helmet whilst she steered some of the more disciplined vampires towards the church. Another group made it's way towards the most nearby gate and succeeded in overtaking a group of fleeing villagers. The vampires threw their head back and laughed loudly whilst they reached down amidst the panicked humans and each of them grabbed one to snack upon.

Most of the Death Dealers lacked the discipline and the loyalty towards Ilona which Amelia would have been given though and the majority of warriors quickly slipped away from the plaza and entered the streets and houses to continue the slaughter.

However even if she wouldn't have hidden her own expression behind the black steel from her skull-shaped visor, Ilona would have cared little though, the actual battle had already been won and she had other objectives to achieve.

Still that the victory had already been ascertained and that the majority of humanity had panicked did not mean that the battle had already ended. The humans were numerous and just the adults outnumbered the vampires by a margin of four or five to one. Furthermore they stood amidst of their hometown and all their worldly possessions, all that stood between them and their families, loved ones, neighbours and friends were they themselves and there were enough of them who remembered that.

These human did their best to fight back with all the desperate anger and fury which they could gather inside of themselves. They screamed and shouted, dug their heels deep into the earth as they stabbed with their spears and blades at the horses and their riders or even threw themselves at the horsemen as they fought desperately to grab a hold of the Death Dealers' weapons or the reins of the barded warhorses

It was not a fair battle, not by a long shot and to the vampires the confrontation with the mortals was not unlike a battle between a group of grown, well equipped warriors and a bunch of children with sticks. Still they fought on.

Each of swords rose and fell as the small group of Death Dealers who had remained around Ilona, true to their name, carved themselves a bloody gap around them.

Hera was one of them, however the numbers of the humans upon the plaza diminished rapidly and maddened by the blood around her, the young Death Dealer eventually found herself chasing after some of the fleeing survivors.

* * *

The young Death Dealer dove underneath a slash from one of the humans with a dismissive ease, she slammed her fist against the man's chest which lifted him of his feet and launched him against the nearby wall before she turned around and blocked another blade.

Hera did not bother with slapping the crude sword away, she had already noticed one of the remaining archers from within the confines of her house and the Death Dealer dove to the left after which she dropped upon one knee.

The arrow tore through the air above her before it struck the wall in which it was left shaking.

Hera rose back up and threw herself forward so that wall of the archer's house obstructed the mortal's vision. Then she turned around again and utilised her vampyric strength to force the sword-bearer back. As he did so the archer stormed out of the building and nocked another arrow.

Hera smirked in return and reached for the dagger which she had strapped to her back.

"There were three of them of them...", her grin broadened as this thought came to her "and they most likely thought they held the advantage."

She could feel the hunger and took a deep breath which gave her a whiff of blood which was mixed with much more pungent scents of mud and filth.

"...such hunger..."

Hera took another deep breath and then stabbed the tip of her sword into the ground before she drew her dagger with a flourish motion.

She saw the tip of the arrow shake a bit as the muscles of the woman's arms and fingers began to strain due to the effort of keeping the cord of a war bow pulled back. Behind the archer the first swordsman was groaning loudly whilst he slowly crawled back up.

The vampire stood motionless as she heard the swordsman run at her from behind whilst she kept staring at the archer.

Then she saw the archer hesitate and she whirled around towards the swordsman. The man had raised his sword high above him as he charged her and Hera took a single step backwards whilst she grabbed the man's wrist with her spare hand and pushed her armed fist against the side of his head.

Hera kept turning around whilst she kept pushed him forward and sunk upon one knee before she released the man who was stumbled onwards as he tried to keep upright.

Hera rose back up charged forward before she spun aside again and hid after her earlier assailant's stumbling body as the arrow flew past them.

The man tried to turn around but Hera had grabbed another hold of his wrist and launched him directly at the archer. The teenager blocked a swipe of the other swordsman's weapon with the blade of her own before she grasped a hold of his wrist and pulled the swordsman directly into her dagger.

The man stared at her skull-like helmet as the blood started to well up from between his teeth and came to pour out of his mouth as he tried to speak his last words.

Behind her both remaining mortals had crawled back up again and exchanged a single glance before they charged at the vampire.

Hera pulled her blade back out of her previous victim's throat and allowed the man to slide upon the ground whilst she turned her body towards her remaining targets.

The archer was the first one who reached her, Hera blocked one punch by grasping her wrist before she pushed her dagger deep into the now exposed armpit. The woman took a step backwards and stared at Hera with an expression of pain and surprise whilst her companion charged past her. Hera took one step backwards which made the impressive looking, horizontal arc from his sword fall too short and then she gave a hard kick against his thigh before she drove the now faltering man even further back with a punch which only just failed to break his ribs.

Hera turned her eyes back to the archer who raised her remaining arm up in an attempt to punch the vampire. Hera blocked the attempt and then twisted the woman around before she stabbed her knife deep into the woman's neck. Her latest victim first fell upon her knees before she finally slumped down and found herself unmoving upon the ground.

Hera turned her head towards the last remaining mortal and chuckled softly as she blocked his slash with her own weapon. Then she raised a single hand into the air whilst she extended her nails. The human grasped his blade with both hands and desperately tried to push her back but failed to do so much as make her budge. Behind the skull-like visor of her helmet, Hera felt her lips curl into a smile before she slashed at him with her nails and tore through the skin of his shoulder and the muscles of his chest. It took her another moment but then she smelled it again, but so much stronger than ever before. The strong waft of the scent of blood filled her nostrils whilst she felt the warm, slippery blood upon her bare hand.

It was wondrous feeling to be surrounded by blood, to smell it with every intake of breath, to feel it upon her with every movement, to know that almost every splash upon her armour and clothing was another drop of the crimson fluid.

Hera was feeling light-headed like she had only rarely experienced before. The teenager evaded a first punch from the man before she grasped his wrist and gave it a mighty haul.

This motion was enough to make him fall down, somehow the man had retained his hold upon his weapon however Hera placed one boot upon the blade whilst she dropped her own dagger.

Then she reached for the chinstrap of her helmet with her free hand and started to undo the knot.

The man in the meanwhile had momentarily turned his head around and pointed his eyes at her, when he did so he noticed the fangs which were revealed by her smile.

She heard him whisperer "Great God," as he recognised her intent and tried crawl away.

Hera chuckled momentarily in return and then she grabbed him by the hem of shirt to which she gave another mighty heave. This pull was powerful enough to drop him upon his back and Hera kneeled down next to him. She grabbed a hold of his hair to pull him towards her whilst she grasped his weapon-hand at the wrist with her other hand. She felt him grab a hold of her own right-hand but his own strength was insufficient to push it away from him and Hera tilted her head as she bended even further towards his neck and opened her mouth wide.

She waited for a single moment to breath so she could feel her own breath reflect back at her from the man's skin as he desperately tried to writhe himself a way to freedom.

Then Hera closed her eyes and bit down.

She felt an explosion from the numerous fragrances from the warm, metallic taste of blood in her mouth and moaned softly whilst she kept her eyes closed to enjoy the sensation to its fullest.

Hera had bitten deep, far deeper than most experienced vampires would have done if they would have been granted the time to enjoy their prey. However the female Death Dealer was neither experienced, nor was she willing to take her time when she was surrounded by so many potential prey.

Hera's teeth had pierced not only the man's skin but also his jugular and his carotid artery which meant the blood kept pouring into mouth at a far greater rate than she could drain it.

Blood kept rapidly pouring out up to the point that the fluid streamed down her chin like a crimson waterfall.

However whilst a less deep wound might have kept the man alive for a far longer time, the nature of this wound meant that the shock struck him far faster than the soothing effect from the vampire's saliva. She felt another jolt go through the man's body as his heart gave up under the stress caused by her attack. As his resistance faded away, Hera removed left hand from the man's wrist and carefully brought it to his head. Slowly, even tenderly she began to brush through the thick, mud stained strands of the mortal's hair.

She couldn't tell whether it helped to ease his pain, but the flow of his blood had died down as his heart had stopped to push it upwards. All that remained was what little of his blood was kept from congealing by her saliva.

When even that was gone, Hera left the body upon the ground and reached for her weapons as she stood back up. Her eyes were still closed when she heard a high pitched chirping break through her haze. Hera opened her eyes and noticed Moka fly above her.

The girl blinked for a moment in confusion, the next moment she saw Moka swoop down with a hint of frustration in her voice.

It took scarcely another second before she heard the swearing of a grown man above her and she turned around whilst she pointed her sword upwards.

Then it was up to her to swear at what she saw.

One of the archers had crawled over to the roof above her to take a shot at her, however fortunately for her own life, Moka had not kept it at a mere warning when she had noticed the man's intentions.

Said bat had launched herself upon the archer and was doing her very best at attacking his face whilst the man could do little more than merely covering his features with his forearms and making an occasional swipe at the mammal.

However before Hera could intervene, someone else did.

A single arrow flew through the air and pierced the man's belly. The archer took an instinctive step backwards and reached for his abdomen as if he had merely been slugged in the stomach.

Then he missed his second step and tumbled down.

Hera slowly raised her hand up and allowed Moka to land upon her fist before she brought the limb back to her chest which allowed Moka to lick the blood from Hera's chin.

It was only then that she turned around.

Several feet away from her, almost halfway the street, stood her mother.

"Are you injured?" asked Ilona with a calm voice whilst she seemed to play with another arrow from the quiver which she had taken from one of the fallen archers who had attempted to defend the village from on top of the roofs.

Hera shook her head before she continued to pet Moka. "I am unharmed."

Ilona nodded in return. "Then keep your guard up." She told her daughter with a calm voice. "They're merely human, they're not harmless."

Hera hesitated for another moment, then she nodded again before she threw a quick look upon Moka who carried some traces of her short altercation with the other archer.

"Thank you," she whispered at her mother whilst she walked towards her. She paused for another moment before she continued her sentence, "for helping Moka."

Ilona snorted audibly but the woman was far too familiar with her daughter's pride and stubborn nature to give her girl the reply she obviously deserved.

Instead Ilona removed her helmet with her left-hand and hung the object to her belt before she slowed down momentarily to slip a finger over the bloody wound from one of her daughter's earlier victims.

The vampire smiled when she felt the blood touch her palate.

Back at the entrance both women noticed another female Death Dealer drain a far younger victim and Ilona earlier pleased expression disappeared just as quickly as it had come.

However Victor's wife spoke not so much as a single word to object to that Death Dealer's actions, instead she pointed one finger at one still burning hearth inside one of the buildings.

"Light it up!" She told her daughter, "before those fools loose all control and kill everyone in the settlement."

Hera obeyed instantly and entered the house with her sword in her hand, however there was no need for this caution because the residence of the place had already been killed.

Seven people had been slain, one elderly woman and two other adults which most likely had been the parents from the little ones who had been slain as well. Hera paused momentarily at the view. The eldest from the children had been fourteen, a girl with a knife in her hand who had seemingly tried to defend herself in vain, the youngest on the other hand couldn't have seen more than a single sun-cycle. It's throat had not merely been bitten, instead it's entire throat had been torn out as if it had been assaulted by enraged animal.

Hera reached slowly for one of the largest branches in the fire, then she pushed the improvised torch into the roofing.

It was hardly the blazing fire which she had hoped for, but the flames showed no sign of dwindling and she suspected that the neighbouring hovels would be close enough to catch fire as well.

"Killing the children...seems... like a waste." She told her mother when she exited the shack.

Ilona nodded slowly although she doubted whether the eldest from these children had really been any younger than some of their victims during their charge through the village.

Nor did she doubt whether Hera would have cared about the age of her victims during her earlier frenzy.

Ilona pointed her hand back to square. "Come with me," She told her daughter. "It is time for the next phase of this ... fairytale."

Hera hesitated momentarily whilst she sniffed the air which was saturated with a mixture of blood and smoke.

"I thought you were the one who was the most enchanted with Amelia's part?"

Hera paused momentarily whilst she bit her lip, before she hid the expressions from her treacherous face behind her helmet.

Ilona chuckled without bothering to hide the cause of her amusement from her daughter.

"And Mladen?" She asked one of her bodyguards whilst she mounted her horse.

"Most of Amelia's Death Dealers are still living up to their name in the town." The man said before he pointed at the church. "However, me and the rest of your guards as well as some of Lady Amelia's more level headed followers took care of the part closest to the lake. We made certain that a group of villagers could escape."

Mladen hesitated momentarily and removed his helmet from his head which revealed a young face with rather refined features, a pair of beautiful blue eyes and long blond hair. Hera greatly disliked to admit it, but if there was such a thing like an angel than these creatures could only hope to resemble Mladen.

"There is a large proportion of children among them," he added before he took a deep breath.

"Furthermore," he admitted. "I took the liberty of pulling _our werewolves_ away from the church so that the rest of the monks could escape."

Ilona stared down at him for a few moments. "That might have been a good thing..." She suggested. "There is no doubt that the nobles and the rest of the clerics will pay a far greater attention to their words than they would to give to those of the rest of the peasants."

Mladen released a sigh in relief.

"On the other hand," Ilona continued a hint of annoyance. "We will require martyrs to succeed with this conspiracy and I doubt whether the majority of those nobles and clerks will lose so much as single wink of sleep for the death of some unfamiliar peasants."

"My lady?" Mladen asked her.

Ilona made a nonchalant gesture. "Fall in behind me, we'll see how it goes."

Besides," she added, "We can always slaughter them in front of the rest of them if it is necessary."

* * *

Rodan ran as fast as he could with the weight he was bearing.

Fortunately for him, Brana was only a young girl which made her small and just as importantly light.

His wife, Vera, ran next to him and so did Vuk, their dog.

Aside from them there were maybe another fifty survivors who escaped the village with little more than the cloths upon their back and occasionally a weapon or a tool in their hands.

There had been less of them when they had only just escaped, however more people had joined up with them as time ticked away.

However the newcomers had been accompanied by a far less welcome group which had fled the flames which now began to dance above the village's roofs.

At first the howling had come from behind them, however it had not taken very long before he caught a first glimpse of the bipedal and quadrupedal wolves which had chased after them.

The humans had pushed each other onwards hoping that there would be safety in numbers and for a while the mortals had been allowed to retain that hope. Then a loud howl had erupted in front of them and a pair of those wolves had appeared before them and the clawed hands had grabbed two more people from the edges of the mass.

More howls had erupted before them and the mob had turned left, away from howling and towards the one direction where there had seemed no sign from their pursuers.

This continued for another short while and whilst wolves kept obviously near them, they remained out of sight. Or at least they did until the humans heard the sound of numerous hooves beating against the ground.

The mortals made another turn and all of suddenly, Rodan realised they stood next to the lake.

Despite their desperate run, despite their attempt to escape, they were almost back at the village.

Rodan sighed and then slowly put his daughter down.

"Rodan?" He heard his wife whispering with a mixture of surprise and fear in her voice. The man slowly reached for the axe he had pushed down his belt.

Rodan was not an experienced hunter, he was a simple woodsman. A man who brought trees down and removed the branches so that other, more skilled people than himself could use the wood to craft or to free land for buildings and land. He wasn't a hunter, but this was something he was familiar with, something he had done himself when he was a child.

The wolves had not been send to hunt them down, they were no predators looking for a prey, they were just hunting hounds or beaters, intended to drive them to the killing ground.

And as if brought forth by that particular thought, the actual hunters arrived.

The humans instinctively crawled together, the children were pushed to the centre whilst the women stood between them and the men with whatever weapon they had been lucky enough to escape with or when they lacked even this small comfort they reached down to ground and grasped a branch with both hands like a club.

Lastly, it were the men who formed the outer layer from the circle. Some of them stood there like Rodan, with a weapon locked into their tense grip and with bared teeth in a desperate attempt to keep the inhuman creatures away from their family, others simply found themselves pushed to the frontline and once there they realised there would be no escape.

There they stood, the moon was full and shone down upon the lake which bespangled the waves with numerous silver spots.

The group slowly crawled further towards the bank of the lake whilst the wolves and the first mounted vampires kept circling around the edges of the gathering but none of them made an attempt to obstruct their path.

Finally the clump of people found themselves at the edge of the water, only a few feet away from the ancient altar. This shrine appeared now little more than a half broken pillar. An ancient block of stone that reached as high as a grown man's belly. There was not much left of the letters and symbols which had adorned this block of stone, but what did was enough to show that it wasn't of Christian origin.

The main-forces of the vampires rode slowly towards them in a single line.

Then one of the vampires raised a single arm up and almost everyone of the mounted warriors checked his horse. The sole exception to this rule was the leader of the vampires who kept riding towards the group of human.

Even whilst illuminated by no more light than that which was cast by the moon and stars, Rodan could still see the dark, gleaming stains upon their black armour.

The leader of the horsemen only held her horse in when she would have been close enough to touch the nearest human with her sword if she would have drawn the weapon.

However instead of doing so, she reached into one of the bags which had been strapped behind her saddle and then launched the contents with an inhuman force at the ground before them.

"Where is it?!" She snarled with a furious voice as she stared down at the nearby monks.

Rodan recognised the contents of the small chest which had been shattered against the ground. These were a pair of brass candles, a large silver cup and a fairly small, but leather-bound bible; these were the foremost treasures of the church... which due the fairly recent conversion and the lingering antipathy against the priest had remained a fairly poor institute in their village. In this it contrasted greatly with the rumoured wealth of the churches in the Frankish and Greek lands.

One of the monks seemed to regain his spine, reached for his own crucifix and pointed that at her.

"God compels you, you tainted creature, to..." he started before the vampire reached down and grasped the crucifix in her gloved hand.

The vampire removed the object from him with a rapid pull which had the blunt, iron blades of the cross tear through the skin of his fist.

The vampire stared at the cross for a moment, then she snorted disdainfully and placed one hand upon the horn of her saddle. A moment later the vampire had both her feet firmly planted upon the muddy earth.

"You are quite the hypocrite, aren't you?" She asked the monk with superior tone of voice whilst she waved the crucifix in front of his face.

"I could smell the blood upon this even before I saw it." She continued whilst she grabbed the monk by the throat and forced him upon his knees.

"Tell me, follower of a carpenter from Israel..." She asked him. "were you so afraid from death that you were even willing to beat women and children with this to escape?"

The vampire paused for a few more moments, than a loud throaty chuckle rose up from behind her helmet.

She dropped the crucifix with a nonchalant gesture in the mud behind her.

"This god you're hiding behind is supposed to protect the innocents, no?... Then without innocence, what is it except for a piece of wood and iron." The vampire told him with a poorly hidden distaste for the man.

"Now..." She snarled as if she had never been interrupted. "Where is it?"

"Where is what?" One of the monks asked her in return.

The vampire growled softly and reached into the small purse which hung from her belt and threw the contents against his chest.

"One of your men stole one of Vassilisa's skulls." The vampire muttered angrily. "One of our dogs led us to this..." after those words the vampire's voice lost most traces of rage, nonetheless, it became far more malicious. "along with several of his comrades."

The monk caught the small object before it could hit the ground. It were the broken remains from broche which had been adorned with the picture of a stag.

"This bauble has been crafted here and yet it's owner is missing!" The vampire whispered, "Where is he? And where is what he stole?!"

With every step the vampire had taken towards, Rodan had felt Vuk crawl further away from the vampire and closer towards the centre of circle. However at least as much in an attempt to keep something between him and the vampire as it was in the hopes of keeping him away from the young children in the centre of the group, Rodan had grabbed the animal by its collar and forced it to stay in next to him.

Rodan felt the dog crawl against his leg as if the animal hoped it could keep safe like that.

He saw one of the mounted vampires point her head at him in return.

A moment later two bats fell from the sky and flew after the dismounted vampire.

However as the spokeswoman from vampires kept moving closer, so did the bats and both creatures kept dancing before snout of the dog.

The female vampire pointed her gaze momentarily at the pair of newcomers before she fixed her gaze back at the humans.

It took a few moments, but eventually Vuk began to realise that the undead woman wouldn't leave or move away from him... and neither would the bats, nor could he run either.

The dog slowly raised his ears up and bared it's teeth like a challenge as the vampire stopped almost next to him.

It was at that moment that the largest of the bats reached with his claws for the dogs eyes before she shot up and flew past Rodan's face.

As Vuk felt both his owner's distracted state and the man's sudden surprise he tore himself loose from the man's grip and attacked.

The vampire took one step backwards and dropped upon one knee, one hand closed itself around the animal's throat whilst the other gave a push against the canine's side. The next moment the dog was launched into the air and landed with a soft thud in the mud.

Rodan blinked momentarily as he instinctively found himself raising his axe up.

Then he heard a cry and he felt his blood run cold.

Somehow Brana had seen what happed to Vuk and even more unfortunate, the girl had found her way out of the circle.

He could see the female vampire stare at the young girl whilst her own hand had closed itself around the handle of her sword.

If Rodan would have taken the time the time to study the woman's face, he might have recognised the mixture of surprise and hesitation. However it was his only daughter who stood there with her back towards a vampire whose armour was already stained with blood and thus he did not hesitate.

The man exclaimed a loud growl and swung his axe in a wide arc at the vampire which forced her to take another step backwards before he ignored the opportunity for a second swing and he took the three steps it required before he turned around again and stood protectively in front of his daughter.

The man bared his teeth and growled whilst he raised his axe over his shoulder.

"Here it comes," he muttered whilst he took a deep breath.

Behind him he heard both his dog and his daughter whimper as the girl buried her head into the animal's coat whilst he waited for the great wall of horses and riders to come racing towards him.

Instead the female vampire raised her open palm up towards the other vampires, then she closed her hand into a fist except for a single finger.

Two horsemen rode forward.

The first was a tall, male rider who ordered his horse forward at a trot. The second was a far smaller, female horsewoman who instantly forced her horse into a gallop until she had positioned her horse in front of the male. Then she drew her sword in an elaborate gesture which made it obvious she forbade the other from intervening.

"Hera?!" Rodan heard the dismounted, female vampire exclaim with some audible surprise as the second vampire approached them.

The other horsewoman nodded in return. "He is mine, mother." She told the first vampire as she positioned her horse in front of the man and dismounted.

The vampire stared momentarily at her daughter, then she threw a quick glance at the horsemen behind them and she nodded although without enthusiasm.

Hera stabbed the tip of her sword into the ground and removed her helmet from her head.

The female vampire smiled at the human and bared her fangs to him with that gesture.

"You're either brave or foolish, mortal." Hera told him with a self-confident smile. "Perhaps both?"

Her smile disappeared and Rodan saw the tallest of the pair of bats landing upon her shoulder. "Don't disappoint me!" She warned him whilst she grabbed the hilt of her sword.

Rodan nodded and tightened his grip upon his axe, then he charged forward.

The axe-blade gleamed like silver in the moonlight as it moved in a shiny arc through the air before Hera raised her own weapon up and deflected the slash with her sword, then she took a single step backwards which gave Rodan the opportunity for another slash with his weapon.

This time Hera took a quick step to the side before she swept her sword upwards in a diagonal arc of which Rodan deflected with a stabbing motion before he flinched backwards to evade the next, vertical arc of Hera's blade.

Hera chuckled in return and pretended to stab at him, before she jumped upwards, grabbed her sword with both hands and swung it downwards in a slash which have successfully split a fully armoured man in two. However this particular assault was hopelessly elaborate and telegraphed Hera's intentions to anyone with a bit of knowledge about body language. It would have been a death sentence against another vampire or a proper warrior, however Rodan was neither, even if he had more than a bit of talent for the second.

Instead of killing her, all Rodan could do was survive.

The man successfully evaded the slash and raised his weapon up.

Hera's sword stopped whatever assault he had intended before he could start, then the vampire caught him off guard with another swing of her weapon which forced Rodan to take another step to the side.

Hera on the other hand took a step forwards which allowed her to pass him by and whirled around.

A moment later Rodan felt a painful punch against his shoulder blade.

The man took another step away from the vampire and as he turned back around he noticed Hera simply take another step forward before she turned slowly around raised her sword up in a rather casual salute. He noticed the blood which now stained one of the quillons from her sword.

Hera raised her sword further upwards and took a deep breath.

* * *

The Death Dealer felt the bloodlust return to her as the immortal animal inside of her awoke and her compassion slipped away.

"So hungry..." she thought before Hera used the speed which was inherent to her race to bridge the distance between them.

She blocked another strike of the man's axe before she grasped his wrist, then she noticed the motion in out of the corner of her left eye and let him go before she took another jump backwards.

Vuk's own fangs caught nothing but air as they snapped shut.

Rodan threw a quick glance to his side and recognised the dog who stood by his side.

Opposite of him Hera found herself smirking in return. "I forgot about you, didn't?" She admitted to herself.

She chuckled again and made a slight wave with her hand before she pointed the limb at the dog.

A high pitch chippering came in return and two bats shot at Vuk from the darkness before they flew back out of the reach of the dog's teeth and positioned themselves behind Hera.

Hera smiled softly before she made a few more gestures and the two creatures flew straight at Rodan's face.

The man raised his axe up in an instinctive gesture to protect his features. Both bats broke their assault prematurely off; however Hera who had seemed content with looking at first, intervened herself.

The young woman charged straight at the man and blocked the man's axe with her sword whilst she grabbed his shoulder with the other and catapulted herself over him.

Then she turned back around and grasped the wrist of Rodan's weapon-hand as he tried to turn towards his opponent and threw him down with a swing of her own body.

Vuk tried to defend his owner and jumped at Hera whilst he aimed at her throat however said vampire took one step backwards and the stretched her arm whilst she closed her fingers around the dog's throat, then she took a step forwards and launched him at the man.

"A brave try, I'll admit that much to the pair of you, mortal." Hera announced with a loud voice whilst she twirled her sword around. "However... the day approaches so this is where our game will have to end!"

Then she paused mid motion and pointed her head at the largest of her bats.

"Enough!" A loud but obvious female voice called out from across the lake.

Hera paused and for the first time since the start of her duel showed something which actually seemed to resemble insecurity.

Ilona walked forward and pointed her eyes at the nearby altar before she returned her gaze to her daughter.

"It seems like the old gods are not as far gone as we anticipated." She told her daughter.

Then the gathering of humans and vampires heard the sound of a particularly large mass of water getting displaced, before a wide wave struck the shore of the lake.

"She is coming." Ilona muttered whilst Hera placed her helmet back upon her head and every one of the vampires drew his or her sword.

The humans on the other hand muttered curiously and with a hopeful anticipation but without much understanding of what was happening.

At first it seemed as if nothing happened, then the first human noticed the slim figure which moved underneath the surface of the water at an inhuman speed as she followed the bank of the lake.

Finally once she reached the altar, the female figure ceased her swimming and leapt out of the lake like one of the dolphins which were associated with Poseidon's wife Amphitrite.

Once again it was a far higher and farther leap than any human could have made, but it positioned her directly next to the altar.

"You have no reason to be here, Roesalka." Ilona told her. "These are no longer your worshippers!"

"She called me." The roesalka said whilst she pointed one finger at Brana.

Said girl stared back at the newcomer with an obvious lack of understanding.

"It is my sign." The Roesalka announced to her audience as she removed her finger from the girl to what might have been an accidental drawing in the mud that vaguely resembled an infinity-sign.

Ilona stared at the marking and scoffed. "It isn't even complete."

"It is my sign!" the Roesalka repeated with a resolute voice.

Ilona mounted her horse and stared down at the woman. "At least admit to yourself that you simply wanted to intervene." She said whilst as motioned her vampires closer.

Hera, as the one vampire who was the closest to her, was the first to position herself between both supernatural beings and Ilona could see how Hera fixed her eyes upon the other woman.

Then again she wasn't exactly the only one.

The Roesalka was dark haired beauty who seemed more akin to the subject of Pygmalion's love than a living woman. Her skin was as pale as marble and no less perfect in appearance. Her features were regal and her eyes had the pale, blue hue of clear water. Her clothing on the other hand was a fairly short, sleeveless dress which was white, thin and clung to her body as if it was a second skin. The only thing which actually gave her something akin to modesty were the algae and leafs which clung to her body as well and gave her some colour where her natural appearance would have left her almost as blank as the marble from which she seemed to have been sculpted.

The Roesalka scoffed in return. "At least admit to yourself that their death would be no more than revenge after failing to find the Skull."

Ilona slowly drew her sword and pointed that at the gathered humans behind the Roesalka.

"Would you risk oblivion to protect them?" She asked the pale woman.

"Would you risk your death and theirs to kill them?" The Roesalka asked Ilona in return as she pointed her finger at the line of vampires behind Ilona before she fixed the digit specifically upon Hera who had remained in front of her mother. "Even her?"

This time Ilona hesitated... and after a few more moments she sighed.

"Mladen...send word to Garm and the other wolves. We are leaving."

"One more moment... mother." Hera added before she turned to the Goran, Brana and Vuk.

The younger vampire removed her helmet once again from her head and placed it upon the horn of her saddle as she walked towards the three mortals.

Hera carefully lowered herself upon one knee and touched one cheek of the girl.

"Your father... is a brave man. You know that much don't you?" she asked the girl who nodded slowly and with obvious fear.

"I could gift you with eternity if you ask me." She said before she paused and remembered the girl protectively standing in front of the dog before she pointed her eyes at Rodan. "The both of you earned that much in my eyes."

"Will you ask me?" Hera continued.

Neither Rodan nor Brana gave a nod in return. All the girl did in return was draw her head away from Hera's cold hand and hide herself behind her father.

Hera shook her head in return and sighed, not understanding why any mortal would refuse immortality when it was being offered.

In it stead she drew her knife and pushed the hilt in the man's hand before she turned around.

"Keep it." She told him. "It will let a vampire know I allowed you to live, it might be enough to let you see another dawn."

Then Hera mounted her horse and she joined the vampires before they disappeared into the nearby forest.

* * *

"They're actually leaving?" Rodan asked with some disbelief in his voice.

"They have no more reason to stay." The Roesalka told him. "Their revenge has already been taken and their Skull isn't here."

The woman offered him a small smile. "They feel no less pain than you do when you lose a friend or a relative."

"Why did you help us?" Rodan asked her. One of the monks looked about to speak up as well but another monk placed his hand before the tonsured male mouth and shook his head.

"My time in this lake is about to end." The Roesalka admitted to him. "Once I was a lady and a protector... And I always admired courage... I refused to stand aside and let such go unrewarded."

"Thank you." Rodan whispered. "Without you, we would have been killed."

"They won't return." The Roesalka continued whilst she turned towards the lake. "There is no need for them unless you kill one of their number... and if they do I will lack the strength to repel them."

She took a first step into the water.

"Wait," Rodan exclaimed. "What about that skull of Vassilisa?"

The Roesalka smiled sadly. "Vassilisa was an apprentice of the witch Baba Jaga." She told the man. "With the three skulls which the witch gave her in exchange for a bouquet of blue flowers, the girl could bind a spirit to an object upon this earth and made him to do her bidding."

"These spirits could protect her or give her advice if she needed them to." She continued. "Or she could use them to control the poor soul and make them fulfil her darkest wishes."

The Roesalka shook her head. "I still remember the day when I saw them pass by my lake. Vassilisa had been death for a year and Burebista had decided that the Skulls had to be brought to a temple, to keep them out of the reach of his rivals and the Roman agents so that none could use it to open the gates of Tartarus and craft an army from those who were already death."

She sighed sadly. "It is a sad day when so much that once was sacred becomes corrupted until it is feared as something vile."

"Don't call upon me again," she told them. "The darkness is calling me and I long for its embrace."

"Why would you flee the light..." One of the monks asked her... "like a vampire?"

The Roesalka smiled at him before she turned her back to him and stepped into the lake. "Because the light hurts and seeks to expose every secret I have whilst the darkness sooths pain and grants solitude, peace and protection to those who are willing to accept it's embrace."

* * *

The majority of the vampires had already left the area of the village when the Roesalka rose once again from the lake.

However there were still ten vampires waiting for her when she did so.

The immortal chuckled as she threw a quick glance in the direction of the gathered mortals who were slowly making their way to the remains of their village.

Then she plucked some of the algae from her shoulders and dropped them behind her.

A wide smile appeared upon her face which exposed her fangs.

"How did I do as drowned oracle?" She asked whilst she reached for another bit of algae.

Hera, who had joined the waiting vampires instantly jumped from her horse and snatched both corners from her cloak between her fingers which she then held in front of the pseudo-Roesalka.

"You were brilliant, my lady." Hera exclaimed whilst she looked away and instead attempted to focus her attention upon glaring at every one of the remaining vampires who wasn't making enough of an effort to look away whilst her mistress began undressing. "If I hadn't known you were a vampire I would have believed you were an actual najad with the way swam and jumped out of the lake."

"Yes, that was the thing she liked the most about that play." muttered one of the remaining Death Dealers which made his companion smile. Hera and Amelia had caught the same words though and both fixed their eyes upon the speaker instantly. Amelia's glare was cold whilst Hera's on the other hand contained far more obvious anger and aggression.

Both women fell silent after those words.

It was only after they rejoined the main-force under Ilona's command that they resumed their earlier confrontation.

"Don't think I didn't notice some of your interventions." Amelia told Hera. "Did you really think I wouldn't notice you breaking ranks to duel with that human?"

Hera paused momentarily, then she jammed her teeth together. "I was given a chance to survive. He deserved the same." She replied eventually. "It would have been hypocritical to deny him that chance when I was there."

Amelia chuckled again and chook her head with some obvious amusement. "Me and your mother should have kept you far from those books with stories about knights and princes. Ever since you were old enough to do so, you kept strapping armour on and went looking for quests and ladies to rescue."

"You also offered him to become a vampire?" Amelia asked her.

Hera kept silent after those words.

"You do realise he most likely wouldn't have survived your bite as you're now?" Amelia asked her instead.

This time Hera nodded in return.

"Tell me Hera," Amelia continued her questioning. "Do you still think this little game of quests will work?"

This time it was Hera who chuckled in return. "What else could make us vampires so feared by mortals? What is the great difference between a seemingly omnipotent overlord of the night and a heliophobic shut-in with pointy teeth and an obsession with bats and body fluids?" She asked Amelia in return. "It is all presentation, we will be the most frightening thing in the world to them, because they will make us so."

* * *

 _ **Vassilisa**_ **: a girl out one of the Russian fairytales who indeed ended up working for the witch Baba Jaga due to the greed of her stepmother and –sister. Eventually she escapes whilst taking the skull of one of Baba Jaga's earlier victims (the thing formed the witch's fence together with a lot of other skulls and bones) with her and back home the skulls somehow kills her stepmother and sister. I changed a few things...for example the small detail that she is a witch herself and not a Cinderella- knockoff who ends up marrying the tsar.**

 _ **Pymalion**_ **: Greek myth about a king who falls in love with the statue of his "physically perfect" wife (perfect apart from the fact that she was no more than a heap of aesthetically pleasing, dead marble rather than a living, breathing human being) the myth gets a happy end when Aphrodite brings the statue to life... it doesn't say whether the "perfect" wife was that happy with her obviously very shallow husband.**

 _ **Roesalka**_ **: Slavic water-nymph**

 _ **Burebista**_ **: One of the Dacian kings who successfully united his people under his banner (for a while) and expanded their influence greatly. He made the mistake of supporting Pompey during his civil-war with Caesar and ended up with the honour of becoming said dictator's first target after the Roman Civil War. Fortunately for Burebista, Caesar was assassinated before he could lead the Roman legions against Dacia. Unfortunately for the king, he in turn was assassinated by other Dacian nobles and this resulted in his state falling apart. It would take over a century before another Dacian king, Decebalus gained a similar power over his people. This would lead to several wars with Rome which eventually resulted in the (rather short) annexation of Dacia by the Roman Empire.**


End file.
